Wood's," said the latter, "since I find him at his own gate. ‘Why?’ ‘Why take me to France? Why trouble himself with me, when so easily he could leave me to this Monsieur Remenham to keep?’ To Melusine’s instant suspicion, Martha bit her lip, drew a breath, and avoided her charge’s gaze. She had fallen asleep. She had called the police on them anonymously. Their flitting hands were always touching. “Go down and rescue the rags of my reputation,” she said, smiling. She laid her hand upon his arm. ‘You don’t know him. I don’t care if you never tell me any of your secrets. Sir John stood upon the threshold. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. His invalid wife and her money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs. ‘Ah, well, we’ll check the back and then go home.
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