\" Lucy winced. ‘You don’t believe her?’ ‘My dear Major Alderley, I do not know her,’ Mrs Sindlesham pointed out. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. ’ Tears sprang to Melusine’s own eyes, and she clasped the hand she held more tightly. The three of them laughed joyously. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. A-L-I-V-A—Aliva—T-R-EN—Trencher that's it.
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