Gerald watched her perambulations in silence, his heart wrung. He did not know what her game was, although he had a shrewd suspicion that she had been co-opted into it by her supposed husband, the soi-disant Valade. He would go there. I tell you that I love you, Anna, and I believe that you love me. She—She can snub him. ‘Well, water under the bridge is that, miss. And no ill-chances. The massive door was unlocked, and they entered the cell. ‘And I’d like to know what the devil—’ ‘Out of town?’ repeated Melusine, stupefied. Having secured this implement, he burst from his conductor, and, leaping into the hatch, as clowns generally spring into the clockfaces, when in pursuit of harlequin in the pantomime,—that is, back foremost,— broke into a fit of loud and derisive laughter, kicking his heels merrily all the time against the boards. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. Swiftly following the sound of knocking, she crossed right and passed through a door near the windows—and found herself in the bookroom. . Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators.
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