‘Do you think I do not know? What am I doing here, do you think?’ ‘That’s just exactly what I’ve been asking myself,’ he returned. ‘Jacques, are you dead? Jacques, do you hear me?’ Melusine put her cheek to his lips, and felt the faint warmth of his breath. “If it will keep you busy,” he said, with a faintly ironical smile. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. He pressed the long shapely hand warmly in his. And if you’ve any notion—’ ‘Yes, it is upstairs,’ Melusine agreed, crossing to the library door. He taught her how to read and write in Latin and Greek, often rewarding her for her efforts with a flower or a trinket. She read the policeman’s rueful glance when she caught his refection in his rearview mirror.
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