’ ‘Grateful? Certainly I am grateful,’ Melusine snapped, knowing full well she sounded anything but gratified. ‘Why did you bring him? I hate him. Ramage leaned over the gate at Ann Veronica’s side, and for a moment there was silence. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. From his wallet he brought forth a yellow letter. She ignored it until it repeated itself. Why? If she had put the query to herself, she could not have answered it. “Oh! I wish,” she said, “that people thought alike about these things. I do not wish to blow off a head, you understand.
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