“I am a fool,” he said. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. Then she put more coal on, piled it over the ashes, and stood once more upright. A long chest under one of the windows was open, some of its contents dragged out and spilling onto the floor. ‘You would say that already then you love me?’ His glance was a caress and Melusine’s resolve weakened. ‘That is true,’ Melusine conceded. In the midst of the holy place, which he had formerly profaned, lay the body of his unfortunate mother, and he could not help looking upon her untimely end as the retributive vengeance of Heaven for the crime he had committed. Ennison kicked it away with his foot. There is no Heaven for your mother. His sword done with, he took up the bludgeon; balanced it in his hand; upon the points of his fingers; and let it fall with a smash, intentionally, upon the table. Suddenly she thrust her head out of the window. At last some anodyne formed itself from these exercises, and, with eyelashes wet with such feeble tears as only three-o’clock-in-the-morning pathos can distil, she fell asleep. But do not awaken my apprehension, unless you have good cause for so doing.
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