In the general survey of the prison, taken in the preceding chapter, but little was said of the Lodge. Melusine tilted her head to catch sight of her neck, and froze, staring at the image. He was a man tout à fait capable, this Gerald. ‘Can’t you trust me a little?’ His touch sent shivers running through her, but Melusine did not withdraw her hand. From the slight sounds that had reached him in his place of confinement, he was aware that some persons had found their way to the scene of slaughter, and in a state of the most intense anxiety awaited the result of their investigation, prepared for the worst. Why? Because he knew that when these two young people left, the island would become intolerable. He lost control of the machine, was upset and nearly killed. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. For four hours he had shifted his own troubles to the shoulders of these imaginative characters.
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