’ Gosse’s eyes went to the portrait, and evidently took in the uncanny resemblance, looking from it to Melusine and back again. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. I’ll announce myself. “They never seem so at first!” he said. There’s nothing happened at all!” She didn’t mean, he concluded, to give him any more trouble ever, and he was free to begin a fresh chromatic novel—he had just finished the Blue Lagoon, which he thought very beautiful and tender and absolutely irrelevant to Morningside Park—or work in peace at his microtome without bothering about her in the least. It appeared he had already ordered dinner and wine, and the whiskered waiter waved in his subordinate with the soup forthwith. “I came to London unexpectedly, and my friends could not take me in. You look like a movie star.
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