"Come away!" he cried, with the roar of a demon. "She is saying that you, a woman, will readily understand the position in which she finds herself. You will torture yourself and torture her all through life; but in the end she will pour the wine of her faith into a sound chalice. Alcohol— would you believe it?—steadies his nerves and keens his brain: which is against the laws of gravitation, you might say. She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth. It arises, I think, from an over developed sense of humour. His eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy; he let out a sigh. Have you not given your life to God? Do you not repent?’ Coming to the bed, Melusine sat beside her old nurse and took hold of one of her hands. “I’m only arguing against your position of what a woman should be, and trying to get it clear in my own mind. “Anything is better than this—this stifled life down here.
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