” “Not long ago,” she said, “you left me in anger, partly because of this exchange of identities between Annabel and myself. Meantime, the Stone Hall was crowded by all the inmates of the jail, debtors, felons, turnkeys, and officers who could obtain permission to witness the ceremony of the prisoner's irons being struck off. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. But of what use to wear it when there was no one of importance to see and admire? ‘For shame, Melusine,’ protested Lucy, as the butler bowed himself out of the room. She read beautifully because the fixed form of the poem signified nothing.
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