He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. ‘You wound me to the heart, Melusine. “You’re kidding, right?” “Not kidding at all. “Idiots!” she said, when she heard this pandemonium, and with particular reference to this young lady with the throaty contralto next door. There was nothing of the phenomenon in this. “I shouldn’t have waited,” she said. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile.
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