Melusine turned and turned, unable to imagine just where the secret door could be. She was writhing to get her hands loose and found herself gasping with passionate violence, “It’s damnable!—damnable!” to the manifest disgust of the fatherly policeman on her right. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas. ’ She let out a peal of laughter. They had their little dreams about her. It was interesting to see how different and characteristic his mode of approach was to all sorts of questions that interested her, and it was amusing to discover this other side to the life of a Morningside Park inhabitant.
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