Why else?’ Gerald stared at her blankly. Melusine tried to squash down, still trying to maintain her guard. The room was reeling, or was it that she was going to faint? She recovered herself with a supreme effort. Usually it was fish sticks and reheated noodles. “Well,” he said slowly, “I had met you three times—before Drummond’s dinner. She could not analyse what was stirring in her: the thought of losing the doll, the dog, and the cat. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. The scanty furniture of the rooms corresponded with their dungeon-like aspect.
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