“I think that it is only an idea. ’ ‘But, no,’ cried Melusine anxiously. Her tone should have warned him, but he was too much in earnest to regard it. There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again. He was now almost driven to despair. ‘As for your dagger—’ She held out her hand palm up, as if she expected him to give her the weapon. “We are clerks in the same bank. We shall see. One more passer-by; and always would she remember his patience and tenderness and disinterestedness. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. “It was fine and brave of you. We had not then recovered from the shock.
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