Just as Jack gained the entrance, he heard a man's footstep behind him, and aware that the slightest indiscretion would betray him, he halted, uncertain what to do. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. That was how she projected it, and in general terms it seemed plausible and possible. ‘It must have been so, Melusine, or I wouldn’t have kissed you. She refrained. Why open my mouth if there might not be a need for it when all’s said?’ Melusine acknowledged the logic of this.
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