” “It can’t prevent our loving. Capes?” she heard her aunt saying. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. She was pleased and a little flattered by his interest and sympathy. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. . It was a habit of his to talk to himself. Ruth drank in these intellectual controversies, storing away facts. Swiftly he looked back to Melusine and found she had whisked to the window, dragging a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve and hastily blowing her nose.
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