" "Ha!" ejaculated Trenchard. I knew it. ‘What did you do with the portrait then? Not that I suppose it is much use any longer. “Miss Pellissier,” he said, “don’t!” “Why not?” she asked, smiling. ” “That’s one of our differences. I was sorry for what I did afterwards; for, I don't know why, but, poor, lady! with her pale face, and black eyes, she reminded me of my mother. It was really very jolly to talk to a man in this way—who saw the woman in her and did not treat her as a child. The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form. Following him, and acting out of instinct rather than intent, Melusine took a firm grasp of the gilt frame with both hands, lifted it high in the air and, with a shrieking curse, brought it down hard. I HAD to. “These are the playgrounds of life.
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