‘Do not speak any more for you give yourself pain,’ said Melusine fearfully. A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast. She was almost tempted to tell him, if only to see the cracks of surprise and incredulity break the immobility of his yellow countenance. Ann Veronica looked bright and a little elated, and she disregarded her father’s invitation to be seated. He knew it absolutely, as if he had the check in his hand. It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. An admirable alternative presented itself and she sighed, spreading her hands. He was so depressed and disheartened that he did not then believe he would ever write again. For a time Spurlock did not move. God is a jealous God, and He turned upon me relentlessly. “Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself. She refrained.
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