She could feel his breath on her skin, every hair on her arms and neck raised in response. Here he halted; and, looking upwards, read, at the foot of an immense sign-board, displaying a gaudily-painted angel with expanded pinions and an olive-branch, not the name he expected to find, but that of WILLIAM KNEEBONE, WOOLLENDRAPER. They might applaud, or object, or interfere, but the drama was her very own. The man who sat behind a pigeon-hole, and regulated the comings and goings, was for a moment absent. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little. She pointed suddenly at the portrait. You are my Sir Galahad, so faithful and true that it is a wonder you exist. You appear to be amongst those strong enough in all ordinary matters, but who seem to think it quite natural and proper to give in at once and play the weakling directly—one cares. Well, it had to happen somewhen. “There is no time for that. I have suffered—I have sinned—I have repented. It's big, thanks to you. ’ ‘Marry you!’ He shot off the desk, such horror in his face that Melusine felt a little irritated.
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