He moved her dress from her shoulders and off her torso. The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished. He stopped short with a little exclamation of surprise. He was standing up with the telegram crumpled in his hand. ’ ‘That is what you think? Eh bien. You know, Melusine. We are the species, and maternity is our game; that’s all right, but nobody wants that admitted for fear we should all catch fire, and set about fulfilling the purpose of our beings without waiting for further explanations. Unless they remind him now and then not to.
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