“We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. He touched it again, and this time it was not withdrawn. ” “What did you say?” “I said, ‘My dear Veronica! how can you think of such things?’” “And then?” “She had two more cups of tea and some cake, and told me of her walk. But he did not follow on with the thought. Melusine got to her feet and, tucking her shoulder under his arm on the uninjured side, put her arm about him to hold his waist, and thus contrived to take most of his weight. “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes.
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