My only love is for my poor lost son. Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit. ‘It was a good chance for a new life,’ Joan explained, venturing to face Melusine again, ‘and Martha took it. And she did not merely affect to be driven—she felt driven. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. There she would wander about in the kindly darkness. It had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an unendurable, scornful grin. She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress.
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