She was ushered into the back of the squad car. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain. He was alone, hatless and without his boots, and he held a wicked-looking French-made duelling pistol, covered in silver and gold— property no doubt, was Melusine’s fleeting thought, of the late vicomte. Her cheeks flushed a dull red. ’ You mean you hope you do, thought Gerald cynically. It added to the picturesqueness of the Sha-mien night to observe these gaily coloured lanterns dancing hither and yon like June fireflies in a meadow.
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