” “And what do you think I ought to do?” “Exactly!” He lifted a paper-weight and dabbed it gently down again. It is no crime, none at all. All at once Melusine remembered Pottiswick, and the errand he had run. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. Now, I know you can restore him to his rights, if you choose. “Sure, I guess so. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous.
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