Now then, missie—’ ‘Bon,’ said Melusine, interrupting him without ceremony, and paying no attention to the muskets that were pointing at her from two directions. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind. “Do you happen to know whether she is supposed to be here?” “Very likely indeed,” Captain Fred Meddoes answered, lighting a cigarette. His glance swept up again and found her staring at him with much of her usual defiance, if a touch less of her customary assurance. What was the name on those marriage lines you showed me?’ ‘M—Melusine,’ stammered the woman, her countenance yet registering shock. She changed her mind that day, as her mother Marina had predicted.
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