” Drummond looked up with mock eagerness. 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. Now she was to be married to him and it horrified her. I tell you—never mind the bill. Well, after a time there came a fever in my blood. I do, however. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere.
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