’ ‘A convent?’ echoed Gerald with interest. Gosse would have killed me, and perhaps in the fight I might kill him. ’ 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. His own peculiar genius—a miracle key to the hidden things in men's souls—had given him this immediate and astonishing illumination. Then he sat down again in a chair and said that people who wrote novels ought to be strung up. 1.
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