Emile Gosse must know his only chance was to be rid of Melusine. Perhaps that sealed letter was a form of confession, and thus relieved him on that score. We two just love each other—the real, identical other—all the time. At half after five that afternoon the doctor and his friend McClintock entered the office of the Victoria. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. It was then for the first time she remembered that she had said nothing to her sister of the man in the hospital. Their faces were masks of abject horror, sunken and shriveled, their cheekbones protruding. She would ignore him. She was perhaps as near tears as ever before in her life. " "Not a farthing more, I assure you," rejoined Ireton, pettishly; "we're all on the square here.
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