Gerald tried it. A creature of convenience, she could have cared less if her children were carried away by drunkards on the street. She felt sticky and ashamed when he dropped her off a block away from the McCloskey house as she had requested. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required. ‘Ah. ‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’ Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain. A single glance served to show the thief-taker how matters stood. Sheppard, with a frenzied laugh. A woman hard to read, who seemed to delight in keeping locked up behind that fascinating rigidity of feature the intense sensibility which had been revealed to him, her master, only in occasional and rare moments of enthusiasm. I’m going to that stupid party at the Vorsack’s to get to the bottom of it.
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