“If only I could afford another!” she thought regretfully. “I wonder why people in love are so defiant, so careless of other considerations?” “The very hares grow brave. Just as I might have killed another, if he had come out. Swiftly he looked back to Melusine and found she had whisked to the window, dragging a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve and hastily blowing her nose. ‘Ah, the tragedy. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. ‘Gérard will think that I have gone back to London.
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