She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. But he might have crept along the left side of the pier, and beneath the further arch; whereas, Wood, as we have seen, took his course upon the right. She was sitting on the mean straw mattress that was placed on the iron bedstead in the makeshift cell, while Melusine stood with her back to the door, confronting her old nurse with the truth. Her fingers closed upon it instinctively. "Where did you find it!" asked Wood.
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