Manning,” she said, “for a time—Will you tell no one? Will you keep this—our secret? I’m doubtful—Will you please not even tell my aunt?” “As you will,” he said. “I think we’ve exhausted this discussion,” she said. Melusine tapped on it. Imbecile. So strongly was he impressed with this idea, that grasping the iron bar with both hands, he dashed it furiously against the door, making the passage echo with the blows. Even two Cabinet Ministers took to their heels, grinning insincerely. At once. Once a week, every Saturday, they had a little gathering from nine till the small hours, just talk and perhaps reading aloud and fruitarian refreshments—chestnut sandwiches buttered with nut tose, and so forth—and lemonade and unfermented wine; and to one of these symposia Miss Miniver after a good deal of preliminary solicitude, conducted Ann Veronica. What was the name on those marriage lines you showed me?’ ‘M—Melusine,’ stammered the woman, her countenance yet registering shock.
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