She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. ‘For kissing you, or for not meaning to do so?’ ‘Imbecile,’ exclaimed Melusine impatiently. " "Off!" she exclaimed, breaking from his embrace with a scream. Her back stiffened. That poor child, trying to escape, and not knowing how. Her features are the same, yet the change has written its mark into her face. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound. She was in ill trim for walking, but somehow or other she made her way as far as the Champs Elysées, and sank down upon an empty seat. She thought about just asking him to take 116 her to his place and get it over with, but she reconsidered and decided to attempt to get to know him better. She was wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John would not be home for several hours at least.
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