’ Melusine shrugged. ’ ‘She?’ scoffed Martha. For a time she promenaded the room. The nuns wore their habit, and said all their offices, and went about their tasks unobtrusively, relieving the poor and needy and tending the sick. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. The road from Surbiton and Epsom ran under the arch, and, like a bright fungoid growth in the ditch, there was now appearing a sort of fourth estate of little redand-white rough-cast villas, with meretricious gables and very brassy windowblinds.
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