To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. Afterwards, it may be different. Hopefully. ‘The man’s gone,’ her old nurse told her, when she had recovered a little. ’ ‘Why should I?’ ‘Because I can’t live without you!’ ‘That is your own affair, and—’ Melusine broke off, staring at him, shocked realisation kicking in her gut. ’ Much to Melusine’s chagrin, Gerald folded his arms and leaned back, as if wholly at his ease. Below was an uninspiring street, a thoroughfare of boarding-houses and apartments. ‘What are you after this time, miss?’ asked Jack.
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