’ ‘Melusine, did you say?’ Mrs Sindlesham sighed. It was less will than education. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. He spoke only when he saw the sing-song girl he wanted to buy. It seems to me exactly what is wanted. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. “See you at school tomorrow. ‘Idiot!’ ‘Enough, now! Softly, you little termagant,’ he ordered, seizing her wrists to hold her off. To buy the freedom of a poor little Chinese slave-girl! For what was the sing-song girl but a slave, the double slave of custom and of men? Ruth wanted to know keenly what had impelled the idea. He slackened his pace as he reached the flat.
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