’ Chapter Six Creeping along the dark narrow passage, with lantern held well ahead to keep her step steady on the uneven stones—and to warn her of the advent of rats— Melusine kept her long petticoats fastidiously clear of the dirt with an efficient hand, a habit she had learned in the convent. You thanked me tersely, then, barely noticing my existence you went right back to your conversation! I was somewhat crushed but my spirits were lifted when the butcher revealed who your husband-to-be was. He had quite enough to see to and worry about in the City without their doing things. It was astonishing how seldom it was that his instincts betrayed him. She could not say a word, much less move. “Ferringhall, were you or were you not dining last night at a certain restaurant in the Boulevard des Italiennes with—la petite Pellissier?” Now indeed Sir John was moved. That’s the wonder of it. Pistols and pictures? Now it fair goes agin’ me nature to act rough with a lady, but you’ll come along of me at once.
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