Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. Melusine—the real Melusine—would never have made such a stupid mistake. Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had dropped away from her as the mists used to drop away from the mountain in the morning. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears. Spurling, who did not dare to exhibit her satisfaction otherwise than by privately pinching the arm of her expected husband. “The Annabel who lives here, who sings every night at the ‘Unusual’? They call her by your old name. He even thought he could detect the voice of Jonathan, urging and directing them. A faint gleam of returning colour gave her at once a more natural appearance. At the gate opening upon the road leading to Dollis Hill were stationed William Morgan and John Dump. Then they would leave and she would go back to being alone.
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