’ Melusine rose from her chair in sudden irritation. “Not to-night,” she said. My son wanted to marry a woman of thirty in a tobacconist’s shop. “Indeed,” she said, “I would not. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. “If you must go on with it,” said Hetty, “now’s your time. There came a wild rush of anthropological lore into her brain, a flare of indecorous humor. Then, in a whisper: "But there's no reason why the whole hotel should. 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. It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding. I say again, grace à vous.
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