Gosse was backing towards the table. You can give up thinking and leave all the brain work to her. Just as he had arrived at the mouth of the drain, and Jack felt certain he must be discovered, a loud shout was raised from the further end of the field that the fugitive was caught. Melusine glanced towards the elderly dame and found that sharp gaze directed upon her. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. A town called Foster. He would go there.
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