Still, here we are in this dingy, foggy city. I love you calling me Gérard and idiot, and I love you when you threaten me with every weapon under the sun, and—’ ‘Pah!’ interrupted Melusine, scorn in her voice. “John,” she said, “I am afraid that I am going to make you unhappy. Why would militia be infesting the place? And he must by now be aware of my interest. The very blank, however, affected him more deeply than if it had been left. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. That was the wonder of these stories; one lived in them. With this she now entered.
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