Melusine did not attempt to speak. “It is an annoyance, my friend,” she said, “not a tragedy. ” “What case?” “A divorce—or something—I don’t know. Why? Here was a curtain indeed. “I suppose my levity is incorrigible. Help! help!" But her cries were unheeded. October arrived; and in another week the court would be sitting at the Old Bailey. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent.
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