’ ‘Then you’re mad,’ Roding said flatly, and suddenly grinned. ’ ‘Hang it, Melusine!’ Losing patience, Gerald seized her by the arms. Then she went into the office. The prostitute’s attack was predictable, typical. . Accounts were now always where he could put his hand on them. After all, that was life. “Don’t you understand, Nigel,” she said softly, “that it was precisely for this I have worked so hard. His hand shook so violently that he dropped the handkerchief; and he let it lie on the floor because he dared not stoop. The idea of Ruth as a talisman against misfortune—which he now recognized as a sick man's idea— faded as his appreciation of the absurd reasserted itself. ‘What are you going to do now, child?’ Melusine sighed away the last of her distress.
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