"There is something in The Tale of Two Cities that is wonderful," she said. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. After all—’ ‘Yes, but I do not wish to see him,’ Melusine protested. For each costume she had devised a suitable form of matrimonial refusal. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague.
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