She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. The gentleman appealed to shook his head in reply, coughed as only a Dutchman can cough, and raising his hand from the bowl of his pipe, went through precisely the same mysterious ceremonial as the Master. She looked steadfastly out. Ruth crossed over to the dramatist of this tragicomedy and put a hand on his shoulder. ’ Melusine hardly dared believe she had heard him aright. Upon what this instinct was based she could not say; she was conscious only of its insistence. It was a betrayal of God and her former family, but all in all was much easier. Instead, he was bowing to her greataunt. All at once it came to him what a fool he was to worry over this phase which was wholly suppositional.
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