The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. Lord, what a state I was in! Night after night I sat there, I watched her come in, I watched her go. Never mind. ’ Gosse’s eyes went to the portrait, and evidently took in the uncanny resemblance, looking from it to Melusine and back again. Afterward, one afternoon, he hovered about her, and came and sat beside her and talked of beauty and the riddle of beauty for some time. I would not have him know—now—for the world. Her stifled misery had betrayed her.
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