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That terrible Young Person! she’s vanished. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. She had become much healthier, and she did not recoil when he kissed her bare neck as it elicited good feelings from all of the regions of her body. ’ ‘Why should I?’ ‘Because I can’t live without you!’ ‘That is your own affair, and—’ Melusine broke off, staring at him, shocked realisation kicking in her gut. ‘Gerald, this is a nun’s habit. He wanted to put on his overcoat and come after you and look for you—in London. Her mind turned to her own future, the endless trickle of years.
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