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He would pursue that little pastime on some other occasion. ‘But you cannot expect that we will any of us remain altogether quiet,’ objected Melusine. ‘To read and write, of course, and to sew. He comforted himself, however, with the certainty which he felt of capturing his prey on the Sunday. His head bent down, intent on kissing her underneath the showerhead. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps.
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