“This is all madness,” she declared wearily. She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage. She understood. She heard their feet and muffled voices. “As it is doubtful whether the man will live, we should be glad if you would identify him. The doctor turned quickly and made for the door, which he opened and shut gently because he was assured that Ruth was listening across the hall for any sign of violence. “I love you, I always will. How could she tell him what indeed already began to puzzle herself, why she had borrowed that money at all? The plain fact was that she had grabbed a bait. In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone. Its walled heaved with black mildew and sea-salt. As if it were she, and not Melusine, who had been hurt by the imposters.
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