It is a serious accusation. “I am a fool,” he said. It could not be a legal marriage. So she brought upon the stage the Reverend Henry Dolby, a preacher of means, worldly-wise and kindly, cheery and rotund, who, with his wife and daughter, had arrived at the Victoria that morning. Afraid, no doubt, he thought grimly, that her other visitor would leave. ‘You would say that already then you love me?’ His glance was a caress and Melusine’s resolve weakened. No one would ever know what happened to him. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. . The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished.
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