Balked, Melusine halted. “I don’t know much about the technique of music,” he said at last, with his eyes upon her. His hands were exploring her once again in the car. His hand traveled below her loose neckline, and he cupped her round breast in his hand. And imprinting a kiss upon his mother's cold lips, he left the room. “Were you ever in love, aunt?” she asked. This astute personage was somewhat under the middle size, but fairly proportioned, inclining rather to strength than symmetry, and abounding more in muscle than in flesh. There was a certain amount of disputation, and meanwhile she went on at school. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers.
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