‘We may have to,’ Gerald answered thoughtfully, staring at the window to one side. “I don’t know much about the technique of music,” he said at last, with his eyes upon her. She took her hat from the peg in the corner and began to put it on. ” Her breath left her for a moment. She appeared to be considering. It made her hungry. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast. Brute! Fool! To have come to her on such an errand. And now she had sent Jack away. ’ ‘But—’ ‘Do not argue with me, but go at once,’ ordered Melusine swiftly, taking a high tone intended to subdue the independent spirit Kimble had lately shown himself to possess. Perhaps it was loneliness. She read beautifully because the fixed form of the poem signified nothing.
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