Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. A neighbor stopped by as the day wore on, causing her to duck and cower as he rang the doorbell over and over. Hitherto it had been qualified by her conception of all life as a compromise, by her new effort to be unexacting of life. ‘What can I do, miss?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ cried Melusine. Besides, Gerald would not for the world have passed up the chance of a little excitement. The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. ’ ‘Don’t interrupt me! You break into a gentleman’s residence, I say, and hold up two members of His Majesty’s peacekeeping forces with a pistol.
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