The sound of her flying feet brought Gerald leaping for the door. She saw how overworked he was. By following her he had discovered her secret nook in the rocks. ’ Melusine remembered a thin man of sour aspect, living—like her father and his wife Suzanne—off the vicomte’s bounty. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. “I did it for love of you,” he said. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue.
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