Well, my dear, it is time you stopped wallowing in your sorrows like a common wretch. On your own. Even to my own brother—if I had one—I could not tell everything, and you, although you are so kind, you are almost a stranger, aren’t you?” “No, no!” he protested. He has no imagination, no real generosity. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. “You heard no pistol-shot?” “None. ’ ‘But, sister, I—’ ‘Get along!’ Melusine gave Jack a smile as he cast a worried look at her, and nodded dismissal. He grunted, and his grip gave. Anna stood looking down upon her sister with grave perturbed face. She did not wince. The conceit of Howard Spurlock in imagining he knew what mental suffering was! But Enschede was right: Ruth must never know. Anna followed her finger, and looked back into her sister’s face.
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