’ Chapter Twelve In the elegantly appointed blue saloon, Melusine sat disconsolate, gazing out of the window at the dull sky. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment. "Is it wrong, then, to surrender to good impulses?" "In the present instance, yes. Recollect that. And if sometimes I grow heady—and it's in the blood— remind me of this day when you took me out of hell—a thief. It was from Brendon. ’ ‘Pah!’ rejoined Melusine, apparently unconscious of echoing him.
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