“My dear boy,” she exclaimed. . “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. ‘Gérard!’ ‘Yes, it’s I,’ he said, and grinned. That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals. ” He shook his head. Oh! that Mr. ’ Melusine’s eyes flashed. No doubt there’s some little mistake. "Lord, if I can only remember to write it exactly as you told it!" He jumped to his feet. Gerald at once rid himself of his own glass and leapt to her assistance.
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