In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. I don’t conceal it. And he liked her. ‘Merci, Joan,’ cried Melusine, moving to her and seizing her hand which she clasped between both her own for a moment, as she turned to the others. ‘Jacques?’ she called out, forgetting the need for silence. We're to be given a treat to-night. It was surely odd that her thought should pick up that picture and recast it so vividly. Suddenly a half stifled exclamation broke from Anna’s lips.
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