and Mrs. Melusine turned and turned, unable to imagine just where the secret door could be. She saw his purpose and his doubt hesitated also, and then went to him, took his coat lapels, and kissed him on the cheek. Then before she could say a word to arrest him he was at her side. He then unfolded his choice and held it before her face. “I see the pointer,” she said. He was not Meysey Hill, but an Englishman of business, and he had only a small income. He stood a little anxious and fussy, bothered by the responsibility of her, entirely careless of what her life was or was likely to be, ignoring her thoughts and feelings, ignorant of every fact of importance in her life, explaining everything he could not understand in her as nonsense and perversity, concerned only with a terror of bothers and undesirable situations.
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