It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. It’s not you—not a bit. Melusine was loath to admit how much more lonely since Gerald chose not to visit her. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. When I gave him an invitation to supper, I little thought he'd accept it. It seemed at this moment, however, that there was not going to be any “fun”, and Captain Roding said so. The chamber, into which he stole, like all carpenters' workshops, was crowded with the implements and materials of that ancient and honourable art. “I suppose,” said her father, “I have read at least half the novels that have been at all successful during the last twenty years. ’ Gerald sat back in his chair, thinking hard.
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