‘What do you say of these troops?’ ‘You see, we’re militia. “I don’t see what else I could have said,” he remarked. As in a dream, Melusine saw her faithful footman struck, his headlong progress checked. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. To her chagrin, he ignored her, and turned a venomous eye on his betrothed. Nobody who cared. But that doesn’t alter the fact that there IS innocence. There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau. He did not particularly care. She did most urgently desire to save her face in Morningside Park, and for long hours she could think of no way of putting it that would not be in the nature of unconditional admission of defeat.
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