“You be off, missie,” said the fatherly policeman. I want her to get forward, to set her among people who'll understand what to do with her. ’ Melusine rose from her chair in sudden irritation. He was always doing his best to call her attention to the fact that he was a man of spirit and quality and experience, and she a young and beautiful woman, and that all sorts of constructions upon their relationship were possible, trusting her to go on from that to the idea that all sorts of relationships were possible. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. I’m a Socialist, Miss Stanley. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together.
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