The poor old imbecile! Why, this child was a firebrand, a wrecker, if ever he had seen one; and the worst kind because she was unconscious of her gifts. And now, when you come at last, you bring me this grandfather, and you dare to tell me I am like him. ‘Well then, Melusine,’ he said calmly, ‘it seems as if we must get you your dowry willy-nilly. He pretended to be unaware of the mishap. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. “You would be wise to loosen your purse-strings, Gianfrancesco. He'll mend, I hope.
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