A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. Then Capes flittered to the hearthrug and poked the fire, stood up, and turned about. Deny me, if you please. ‘What was you wanting it for, may I ask?’ ‘You may not ask, for it is none of your affair,’ Melusine snapped. I overheard them planning your assassination. The girl had told him distinctly that her name was Anna. Then she slowly straightened, releasing him.
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