"For my part, it's only what I expected of him," observed Mrs. ’ ‘Eh?’ Almost Melusine betrayed herself at his startled look. He would talk to Spurlock, but from the bench; as a judge, not as a chagrined lover. Even that he was an interfering person, if he walked through that door this moment, she would fling herself at him and weep all over his chest. A hollow plunge, echoed and re-echoed by the walls, marked his descent into the water. The little grating in the door, the sense of constant inspection, worried her. For aught I know, they may be in the neighbourhood at this moment.
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