‘Why, what have I said?’ ‘You said to me my name. ’ ‘How can you say so?’ protested Melusine. His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers. ’ Melusine rose from her chair in sudden irritation. She began to draw on her gloves thoughtfully. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. Single pearls— Lord knows where they come from!—are always turning up, some of them of fine lustre; but I never set eyes on them.
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