She touched bow to strings, playing a fifth. " But he searched in vain. Ramage,” she said, sharply, “I have to make it plain to you. Why open my mouth if there might not be a need for it when all’s said?’ Melusine acknowledged the logic of this. “No Christmas dinner,” she said, “or anything nice! One doesn’t even know what you are doing. But he had shown no desire for information, no curiosity. “Don’t you get it, Lucy? I’ve always thought he was an idiot. And a ballot-box—” Her face assumed an expression of intellectual conflict.
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