I did not care—no woman really cares—to play the beggar maid to your King Cophetua. . Melusine gritted her teeth. But Jack was too well versed in the geography of the place to attempt either of them. The picture in her mind altered and she saw again the way Gerald had looked with consternation upon the bruises he had inflicted on her wrist. Instead, they lived a Bohemian existence, moving from patron to patron, city to city. Thames did not attempt to offer him any consolation, for he was almost as much dejected. “I think that I will leave this letter for him,” she said.
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