Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. ” Ann Veronica reflected. “Did you tell him?” Capes smiled faintly. But it was her proof. “I remember hearing something about it. A short flight of steps brought him to a dark passage, into which he plunged. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. “What can you do?” she asked. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. “I am going,” he said, “to be impertinent. ‘You mean that there is a rival Melusine to the one he has heard about? He does not. “He writes very well,” said Ann Veronica. Take care he don't see you,—and bring me word where he goes, and what he does.
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