The tapstress was full of curiosity; but she appeared more easy than the others. Gerald did not know who she was, but he knew who she was not. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. ‘Because he knows you for an imposter,’ Melusine flashed. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. Awkwardly, he closed his eyes and fumbled for a kiss. . ” Mr.
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