She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. Yet she held her tongue. Melusine cast one swift glance at it, and her eyes, flashing magnificently, came back to his face. “The surgeon’s knife is surely a kindly weapon,” she declared. It filled his thoughts for the rest of the day, and became an obsession. The women’s meeting was much more charged with emotional force than the Socialists’. She saw nothing of their love-making, and came home from her boarding-school in a state of decently suppressed curiosity for Alice’s wedding. ’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease.
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