The struggle was brief, and Gerald stepped aside, the pistol in his possession, while the girl Melusine stood trembling and glaring. Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn. Left to himself, he took a survey of the room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the, chimney-piece, a portrait of himself. She always dawdled, so it was easy. ’ He took the thing from Melusine’s listless grasp and went on, ‘Now then, what’s all this here argy-bargy with Pottiswick?’ Melusine opened her eyes and straightened up. She grasped at the right one, massaging where his grip had been and Gerald hoped he had not bruised her. He saw now that it was merely a boy. “We are the species,” said Miss Miniver, “men are only incidents.
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