All that confidence, born of irony, disappeared; and fear laid hold of him. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. It was Ennison who for the rest of his visit was quiet and subdued. He lost control of the machine, was upset and nearly killed. ’ Melusine rose from her chair in sudden irritation. The day was unseasonably humid and dark, a thick fog having descended over manicured lawns. Yet he stays. Chapter VI A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her keenly through his gold eye-glasses. She was, as Capes had said, a hard young woman. “I have not quarrelled with her.
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