Sheppard raised her hand, and the malediction trembled upon her tongue. “It was perhaps my fault. Come. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. ’ ‘But, no,’ cried Melusine anxiously. He embraced her small body in his arms, kissing her forehead over and over. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. “He will find it difficult no doubt to alter his style of living,” she said. She stopped abruptly, and looked in a flower-shop window. So, when I tell you she loves you, I know.
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