She felt the softest touch caress her cheek, and a wave of tenderness engulfed Melusine. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. . Something like a snarl crossed his face, and ignoring the pistol, he moved forward, seizing her shoulders. ’ ‘Eh bien, you are not a saint,’ Melusine snapped. ” There followed an instant’s pause, and then Ann Veronica had decided to misunderstand. “Will he die?” she asked. Blackness was beginning to consume the cornfield.
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