But he did not follow on with the thought. He made his speech a little elaborately. What was the name on those marriage lines you showed me?’ ‘M—Melusine,’ stammered the woman, her countenance yet registering shock. ’ Fire enveloped Charvill’s mind and he brought up his cane, pointed like a musket. ’ Melusine remembered a thin man of sour aspect, living—like her father and his wife Suzanne—off the vicomte’s bounty. A tinge of admiration rose in his breast. “Anna,” she moaned, “I am a jealous, ungrateful woman.
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