"Excuse me," he said, plunging his fork into a fowl, and transferring it to his plate. ’ She was obliged to acknowledge the justice of this complaint, and moved further into the passage to allow the men access. And so your Melusine is busy trying to prove that she is the real one. I am suspected of having shot the man. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. ” A shade of concern darkened Carol Diedermayer’s face.
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