" "Very well. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. ” “For you. Will you?” She thought, and it seemed to him she had never looked so self-disciplined and deliberate and beautiful. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. . ’ ‘Why should I?’ ‘Because I can’t live without you!’ ‘That is your own affair, and—’ Melusine broke off, staring at him, shocked realisation kicking in her gut. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house. ‘This is not love, Marthe. ‘Her own,’ Gerald replied. She resolved to go into the City to Ramage and ask for his advice. ” “But I love you.
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