She mounted the stairs of the theatrical agent’s office with very much less than her usual buoyancy, nor did she find much encouragement in the general appearance of the room into which she was shown. “It’s still a marvel to me that we are to be forgiven,” she said, turning. She took the initiative and guided his fingers inside her and bore down. Little by little, she stopped hating him. ’ ‘But you say that I was born here,’ objected Melusine. Then he understood. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. Life! Life and love! It makes me want to be always young, always strong, always devoting my life—and dying splendidly. ” She looked at him with fluttering eyelids—sweetly grateful.
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