The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. You ought to know that. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. Had he been listening inside? ‘What is amiss?’ ‘That Frenchie, sir. No matter. They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. ’ ‘No, sister, I know that, but—’ ‘You needn’t tell me. ’ Melusine heard a note of triumph in his voice and turned, a questioning look in her face. Miss Klegg and the youngest girl made a vigorous attack on Miss Garvice, who had said she thought women lost something infinitely precious by mingling in the conflicts of life. The well of tears in her eyes was dry. She prevaricated.
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