’ Melusine’s eyes narrowed and she drew back. Overcome by his affliction, Mr. “Anna,” he pleaded, “be merciful. She shook her head. They were drenched with water and suds. At table he carved in a gloomy but resolute manner. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. That held his thought as the magnet holds the needle, inescapably. By the time John returned with popcorn and a large Coke, the theater had filled up with high-school kids. “It is such a very respectable boarding-house,” she said.
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