She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream. It had ever been her policy, much to Melusine’s relief, for she was apt to complain that it only made her mad and there was nothing she could do about it. ‘Desist, you little devil,’ he growled in her ear. "The same as a Japanese geisha girl. ” “Don’t tempt me,” she said, laughing, and drawing her opera-cloak together. His clothes were smartly pressed, his linen white, his jaws cleanly shaven; but the day would come when he would grow indifferent to bodily cleanliness. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. She warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection. To-night she had a curious feeling that she stood upon the threshold of some change. No wonder that Trenchard, as he gazed at this fearful being, should have some misgivings cross him. The library was on the ground floor, Melusine recalled from the previous visit, for she had searched through a desk in a room filled with bookshelves of leatherbound volumes. "They have ever since been deposited in a place of safety.
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