‘I don’t think you need do that, Melusine—if I may call you so. "Run away with her," replied Gay. "Ah!" cried Wild, laying down his pen and looking up with a smile of satisfaction. His advice was mostly practical. What of it?” There was a shout of laughter. Melusine made no reply. Was it that the struggle of things to survive produced as a sort of necessary byproduct these intense preferences and appreciations, or was it that some mystical outer thing, some great force, drove life beautyward, even in spite of expediency, regardless of survival value and all the manifest discretions of life? She went to Capes with that riddle and put it to him very carefully and clearly, and he talked well—he always talked at some length when she took a difficulty to him—and sent her to a various literature upon the markings of butterflies, the incomprehensible elaboration and splendor of birds of Paradise and hummingbirds’ plumes, the patterning of tigers, and a leopard’s spots. So the young fool had not told her! McClintock had suspected as much. “But have you ever thought that you might be attracting negative attention to yourself by looking like you do? Like I said, don’t take it personally.
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