As Gosse pushed her around it, she felt his hold about her of necessity loosen slightly. ‘Dear me. Mr. ” She replied gently. ‘I suppose this is the cavalier you had with you when you—er—attended the ball the other night?’ ‘Jacques is very useful to me,’ Melusine confirmed, bestowing that same radiant smile on the young man, whose features were instantly suffused with scarlet. . She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. If, when he returned, he blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain to learn if his agony was still upon him. In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone. Her tone should have warned him, but he was too much in earnest to regard it.
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