The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. ’ Mrs Sindlesham sighed deeply. It’s no good. Drowning, her brain dizzy, Melusine clung to the source of the flooding warmth, her hands, no longer forcibly held, moving without will about the firm back. “You are Mademoiselle Pellissier?” he asked, without rising to his feet. ‘I do not understand you. “There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed. I was stupid—stupid and impulsive beyond measure to burst upon you in this way.
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