These sweeping dignities were not within the compass of her will; she remembered she liked Ramage, and owed things to him, and she was interested—she was profoundly interested. ‘I don’t think he deserved that, Melusine. What could I do at home? The other’s a crumple-up—just surrender. ‘Because I love you. There is nothing but your pride which stands between us. Horrible memories of things seen beneath the microscope of the baser forms of life crawled across her mind and set her shuddering with imagined irritations. Breakfast was laid for one, a dish of fruit and a shining coffee equipage.
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