I want you to be my lover. ‘You don’t even know what it means, do you?’ Melusine frowned. He had been baptized there. She had only to get through this, to solace Manning as much as she could, to put such clumsy plasterings on his wounds as were possible, and then, anyhow, she would be free—free to put her fate to the test. Then she saw the bodies piled in the corner. She had heard of women journalists, women writers, and so forth; but she was not even admitted to the presence of the editors she demanded to see, and by no means sure that if she had been she could have done any work they might have given her. He had chosen his time well.
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