She was marvellously pretty, but he was not quite sure—yet—that it was advisable for him to sit with her in so public a place. Lucy stepped inside. For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. “Don’t you have a wife? Where are your children?” She asked. ‘Do you mean to tell me,’ enquired the captain at length, ‘that you have had the infernal audacity, the—the gall, the—the— Gad, it’s an outrage! You’ve stolen a horse from a priest?’ ‘I did not steal it,’ protested Melusine hotly. ” “It’s an unrest—a longing—What’s that?” The waiter had intervened.
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