Dese ere not schouts, as you faind, but jonkers on a vrolyk; and if dey'd chanshed to keel de vrow Sheppard's pet lamb, dey'd have done her a servish, by shaving it from dat unpleasant complaint, de hempen fever, with which its laatter days are threatened, and of which its poor vader died. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. “Then I don’t take this as final. I—In fact, I dislike him extremely. Melusine sighed with relief and set to work by the light of the lantern. But also this must not go on.
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