At the threshold of the study he bade her good-night; but he did not touch her forehead with his lips. He had sufficient strength to wait upon himself. The decision had been sound. Their faces had bite marks that were hers. ’ ‘But you say that I was born here,’ objected Melusine. I don’t mean I’m not a good woman—I mean that I’m not a GOOD woman. That her husband was not touching her anymore grew to be like a disease, something to be cured. ‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. And as he gave back the portfolio to Sir Rowland he contrived, unobserved, to slip the precious document into his sleeve, and from thence into his pocket. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past.
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