But how to avail himself of it was the question, for in his present garb he was sure to be recognised. Sebastian was always a man who felt the need to surround himself with the trappings of the finer life. But his life, ruled by chance and the fight to survive had appealed strongly to Melusine’s rebellious spirit. It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore. So far she had not heard the sound of his voice. “You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. Confidence in himself would strengthen him.
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