CHAPTER IV. It was the day I borrowed a pencil; the day we first spoke to one another. There’s hardly a night she doesn’t sneak out of the house. I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school. ’ ‘Then why,’ demanded Melusine, ‘did you do it?’ Gerald closed his eyes. “Kick aht at ‘em!” though, indeed, she went now with Christian meekness, resenting only the thrusting policemen’s hands. Why shouldn’t we be martyrs? There’s nothing else for most of us, anyhow. “Um, I really shouldn’t tell you this, but he said. To-morrow I shall come and talk to you again—of other things. Had he been trying to stop the grim descent, and had he dimly perceived that perhaps a fine deed would serve as the initial barrier? A drunken idea—a pearl in the midst of a rubbish heap. We'll be upon the ban-dogs before they can shake their trotters!" And the alarm was sounded more loudly than ever. "Before you go, bring me the bottle of pineapple rum I opened yesterday.
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