58 \"Why will you not touch me?\" She cried out, sitting up, her head in her hands. “Never mind. After all, she found herself reflecting, behind her aunt’s complacent visage there was a past as lurid as any one’s—not, of course, her aunt’s own personal past, which was apparently just that curate and almost incredibly jejune, but an ancestral past with all sorts of scandalous things in it: fire and slaughterings, exogamy, marriage by capture, corroborees, cannibalism! Ancestresses with perhaps dim anticipatory likenesses to her aunt, their hair less neatly done, no doubt, their manners and gestures as yet undisciplined, but still ancestresses in the direct line, must have danced through a brief and stirring life in the woady buff. Your maid would not be of the least protection. “That’s the point. ’ ‘So would you run away,’ she uttered impulsively. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. Ruth was strong in body and soul. “Thank goodness!” said that retreating aspect, “that’s said and over. At this moment she was staring ahead; and again came the opportunity to study her. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. . But first,’ said Melusine with determination, ‘I will find that which I came to find. "Where shall I fly?" exclaimed the lady, bewildered with terror.
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