He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. He was tender with her as he had not been in years. You were with your mother, the two of you huddled like thieves, laughing at the silly women who tried to shield themselves from rain by cowering under empty baskets and shawls. ’ Gosse smiled and Melusine read triumph there. As much as it killed her, she kept her mouth shut. Who’s for a rubber of whist?” Ennison made so many mistakes that he was glad to cut out early in the evening.
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