You’re a piss-poor liar, John. But Melusine had overcome the weakness, calling the loss but a temporary setback. For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. “I don’t see what else I could have said,” he remarked. ’ ‘She’s as clothheaded as you,’ Roding retorted, but he slipped an arm about the lady’s waist and gave her a quick squeeze. ‘Here we go again. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips. Courtlaw,” Anna said, “and my solicitors, Messrs. Your Mom says to come downstairs for dessert. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. We sha’n’t hang up on any misunderstanding. She was in a very uncritical state that afternoon. Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face. The thought passed through his mind even as he started to cross the terrace at a jogtrot, moving to head her off.
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