. Nevertheless there came a residuum of expostulations. She could not look at him through an interval that seemed to her a vast gulf of time. “He’s got good taste, you know. It was from Brendon. The thing is, Miss Charvill —’ ‘He told you my name?’ cut in Melusine, surprised. A woman hard to read, who seemed to delight in keeping locked up behind that fascinating rigidity of feature the intense sensibility which had been revealed to him, her master, only in occasional and rare moments of enthusiasm. The proa bore away to the northwest out of which it had come. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think.
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