’ ‘He does not call himself my father, for he calls himself nothing at all,’ Melusine told him, her tone violent with fury. It was enough that she witnessed it and could not go to him. I must go perhaps in all the rooms. “Troubles, my friend,” she exclaimed lightly. “Excuse me a moment. You understand what I mean. And yet he knew clearly and definitely what he purposed to do, what the future would be. He touched it again, and this time it was not withdrawn. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world. He had something across his knees. And a broken picture that was torn when I hit him with it. “I have a message from your sister. I've an idea it'll be that long before the chap gets up.
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