Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. We can love on a snow cornice, we can love over a pail of whitewash. As they kissed goodbye, she hoped that he felt the same reluctance to part. With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible. For her it was sufficient to know that somebody wanted her, that never again would she be alone, that always this boy with the dreams would be depending upon her. “It has been proved,” said Miss Miniver, and added, “by American professors. ’ ‘I see now how it was that Marthe knew of the secret passage,’ Melusine said. You really are extremely stupid, Melusine.
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