At last she glanced at a little clock in the corner of the room, and sprang to her feet. So he found her when he came round the corner of the spinney. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. The stage manager came out from the wings, and taking her hand led her off. “Do you hear!” she said “whatever you are, wherever you are! I will not be slave to the thought of any man, slave to the customs of any time. He’s been 274 lookin’ a little down lately. T’weren’t fitting, we knew that. Impassive by nature and training, he was conscious to-night of a strange sense of excitement, of exhilaration tempered by a dull background of disappointment. Lee-o-no-ra. Melusine sighed with frustration. Still, there certainly was something in the idea of a treaty.
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