’ Gerald came into the room as he spoke, his eyes on the stormclouds rapidly gathering in Melusine’s face. "It is too late. Wood's house was broken into and plundered. Courtlaw. 265 The madness crept around her like smoke under a door. “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. For four hours he had shifted his own troubles to the shoulders of these imaginative characters. .
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