" "Think not to delude me, audacious wretch," cried the carpenter. Her eyes travelled about the room as if in appeal to the very chairs. As if we didn’t know! The practical trouble is our ages. He was a philosopher. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. We can’t be lovers in the ordinary sense, but we can be great and intimate friends. Why open my mouth if there might not be a need for it when all’s said?’ Melusine acknowledged the logic of this.
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