‘Do you think I am afraid of a sword in the hand of a slip of a girl?’ For answer, Melusine lunged at him. ’ ‘But it was not your fault,’ protested Gosse, shocked. He inspected the formidable array of rifles and at length walked over to the register. I will shed no more blood. It belonged to his father, and was worn by him on the night he was murdered. She was never able to trace the changes her attitude had undergone, from the time when she believed herself to be the pampered Queen of Fortune, the crown of a good man’s love (and secretly, but nobly, worshipping some one else), to the time when she realized she was in fact just a mannequin for her lover’s imagination, and that he cared no more for the realities of her being, for the things she felt and desired, for the passions and dreams that might move her, than a child cares for the sawdust in its doll. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion.
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