’ The core of hurt rose up, tearing at her insides. ’ ‘Melusine,’ repeated the old lady. Will you forgive me—if I say no more?” She looked at him with perplexed, earnest eyes. “You knew it,” he added, in her momentary silence. She handled it half fearfully, and set it carefully down again. . 255 “You have a very talented son,” was her opening line. What sort of a standard of life yours may be I do not know, yet in your heart you know very well that every word you have spoken to me has been a veiled insult, every time you have come into my presence has been an outrage.
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