Chapter Four Two days later, it was quite another Melusine who confronted a young lad on a sunny morning, at variance with her bleak mood. She would write to Gerald. ‘Laisse-moi!’ Impatience swamped him. ’ Gerald grinned. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. " "Poor soul!" ejaculated her son. You represent to me an enigma, the solution of which has become the one desire of my life. Many a black veil hid a high-born dame, and the religious habit was no protection. Here was Ruth Enschede—sick of love! Love—something the world would always keep hidden from her, at least human love. Anna sat with the face of a Sphinx— waiting. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. You lack only that mechanical knack of expression which is the least important part of an artist’s equipment, but which remains a tedious and absolute necessity. Inside was Anna, leaning a little forward to watch the passers-by, bright-eyed, full to the brim of the insatiable curiosity of youth—the desire to understand and appreciate this new world in which she found herself. “I’m so glad my Mom’s letting me go out tonight.
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