’ ‘Grossly unfair, too. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. ‘Dead then, is he?’ ‘If I could say that he is dead, it would give me very much satisfaction. She had slept badly at first in a long chair next to the fire waiting for him to return, but caught on after that. He stared at the woman depicted thereon for a long moment, awe in his head. ’ Melusine shrugged.
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