‘Melusine…Melusine. They all balk because there aren't any petticoats. All he will say is that she said so—as if anyone could believe a word the girl said. Even after this woman had gone, it seemed to Ruth that the room was kindlier than it had ever been. I could not dream of loving you. Drawing the pay of life and then not living. I love you calling me Gérard and idiot, and I love you when you threaten me with every weapon under the sun, and—’ ‘Pah!’ interrupted Melusine, scorn in her voice. If you will think only of one trifling aspect—the inconvenience it must be to us to explain your absence—I think you may begin to realize what it all means for us. Perhaps you will meet him someday. Afraid there'll be a love-affair.
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