"I had one," answered his sister, in a mournful voice; "and, perhaps, I have one still. She should have slapped him but she was in shock at her own thoughts of lust that arose. ” She taunted. ’ There was sense in what she said, Melusine was obliged to concede. It was after all a momentary affair. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames.
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