She hissed in a breath and his eyes met hers. It’s got to be at last like tobacco-ash over all my sayings and doings. For a time it really seemed all-sufficient to her that she should love. Threw it out. ‘Well, young man,’ he said, ‘we haven’t seen you lately,’ and something about ‘Bateson & Co. Leonardo was to me perhaps like a father, not a lover as you think. ‘You the fellow Gerald spoke to?’ Kimble flushed beetroot, and Melusine had a flash of insight. Well, I told aunt. He did not like it, he said, with a significant look, to be reminded of either his books or his dinners after he had done with them. John stared palely. How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever? How long wilt thou hide thy face from me? She came upon the Song of Songs—which had been pasted down in the Enschede Bible—the burning litany of love; and from time to time she intoned some verse of tender lyric beauty. 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. We have him as safe as a linnet in a cage; and could wring his neck round as easily. She donned her gloves. Finally she decided upon a step that had always seemed reasonable to her, but that hitherto she had, from motives too faint for her to formulate, refrained from taking.
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