‘Let it fall!’ ‘Brute!’ she spat, struggling, and he knew at once he had guessed aright. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed. ‘Very clever, Mademoiselle Melusine. Taking the wind was her business in life. ’ For a moment Gerald said nothing at all. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. So Ruth found that for a while her eyes were free. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered.
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