. ’ ‘Hélas, poor you,’ Melusine rejoined sarcastically. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. There was a strained, eager expression on his face. “A ballot-box, you know,” he said, “is very largely just a box. ‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation. "For my part, I don't think you ever quite got over the accident you met with on the night of the Great Storm. He saw her eyes pass him and settle on a fleetingly pretty strawberry blond girl and her effeminate father. Nay, for aught I know, some of them may even now have got scent of me.
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