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“Why on earth did you TELL me?” he cried. Its shouting now did in some occult manner convey a protest that Mr. ‘You wound me to the heart, Melusine. Whatever those rights may be, whoever I am, my heart is yours. It was as if she had grown right past her father into something older and of infinitely wider outlook, as if he had always been unsuspectedly a flattened figure, and now she had discovered him from the other side. I hope you won’t think less of me, you’ve treated me so well. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. ‘It is precisely that point over which Melusine and I fell out.
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