“Perhaps for me,” she added, with a sudden wistful look out of the bare high window, “a night of beginnings. ’ ‘Melusine,’ repeated the old lady. Beneath that tree let us lie. “The truth!” It was a moment of awkwardness between the two sisters —a moment, too, charged with its own psychological interest, for there were secrets between them which for many months had made their intercourse a constrained and difficult thing. One morning he caught her hand suddenly and kissed it. But we must not anticipate the course of events. Annabel Pellissier was not like the others, he said.
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