This forthright dame was so excited, she could not keep still, but paced about the parlour much as Melusine had done earlier. Once they were on the move, Kimble seemed to find strength from somewhere. "I cannot—will not suffer you to remain here. It was an impulse. There was no keeping Sheila from the truth, and it was better that anyone who lived under her roof knew it. She came originally of country stock, and had been virtually in sole charge of Melusine almost from the hour of her birth—a thankless task, as Melusine had heard her bemoan countless times, with the rider that she had carried it out with a conspicuous lack of success. Something he saw there made him feel for a moment ashamed. "My limbs feel so light, now that my irons are removed," he observed with a smile, "that I am half inclined to dance. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot.
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