Gerald began to ease forward, deciding just how he would accost her. Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. The blue jowl, the fat-lidded eyes—now merry, now alert, now tungsten hard—the bullet head, the pudgy fingers and the square-toed shoes were all in conformation with the doctor's olden mental picture. ‘Jacques, are you dead? Jacques, do you hear me?’ Melusine put her cheek to his lips, and felt the faint warmth of his breath. This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. I stole away and walked to the railway station. God gives us an equal chance; but we make ourselves.
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