My friend the doctor suspected it, and so do I. . He’s a catch, Lucy. ‘A thing Marthe told me of,’ Melusine answered, her attention on the garments that were still lying higgledy-piggledy, just as she had left them. Let him be sure. Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his. To hand the key back in silence was like offering a lie. Why should she? she asked rebelliously. She had not chosen her life, but she was foggy on whether or not it was right to deny others the right to join her in her suffering. Selfishness. The musician. A garrison called to arms at dead of night on the sudden approach of the enemy, could not have been more expeditiously, or effectually aroused. She was aware of people—her aunt, her father, her fellow-students, friends, and neighbors— moving about outside this glowing secret, very much as an actor is aware of the dim audience beyond the barrier of the footlights. I overlooked the mechanical imperfections of your work, the utter lack of finish, the crudeness of your drawing.
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