After an affectionate parting with Winifred, Thames was conducted by the carpenter to his sleeping apartment—a comfortable cosy chamber; such a one, in short, as can only be met with in the country, with its dimity-curtained bed, its sheets fragrant of lavender, its clean white furniture, and an atmosphere breathing of freshness. “I cannot reason with you,” he said at last wearily. He went more easily this time. An iron fillet secured the socket of the bolt and the box of the lock to the main post of the doorway. I tried. ‘Does Charvill know that this Melusine of yours is here?’ The question distracted Gerald.
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