"Where did I hear that before?" "Perhaps that first day, in the water-clock tower. "There!" she cried, laughing, "that'll teach you to lay hands upon me again. Advancing to the middle of the chamber, he halted, drew himself up, and fixed his dark, expressive eyes, on Thames Darrell. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. ‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve. “It’s either now or never,” she said to herself. Her cheeks were the colour of chalk, her eyes were filled with terror. It is so that I may marry an Englishman.
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