He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. ’ ‘Why should I?’ ‘Because I can’t live without you!’ ‘That is your own affair, and—’ Melusine broke off, staring at him, shocked realisation kicking in her gut. She passed down the stairs and into the street. She leaves town to-morrow. The poor boy, wanting his empty coat! The incident, however, caused her to review the recent events. She seemed to assume that it must certainly be something she had said. She held out her arm straight before her, and turned her hand this way and that.
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