She attended to that, and then dismissed it as unimportant. For a moment her thoughts led her back to the evening when she and Courtlaw had stood together before the window of her studio in Paris, before the coming of Sir John had made so many changes in her life. The wound lay open for five seconds, and then closed neatly as if it had been stitched by invisible hands. “Perhaps by this time you will have heard of the step I have taken in leaving my home. Too much, perhaps. Not wisely but too well. She could have traded it for gold nuggets and lived like a queen for a few weeks, but she did not. “I don’t think our engagement can go on,” she plunged, and felt exactly that loss of breath that comes with a dive into icy water. Will you please—Not now, or I must go. ’ Gerald started. She drove me. What was the name on those marriage lines you showed me?’ ‘M—Melusine,’ stammered the woman, her countenance yet registering shock.
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