’ Melusine shrugged, and crossed to the plain door beside which hung a bell. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. He passed but a cursory glance over the formal certificate that identified the Frenchman before him as one André Valade, distant cousin to the Vicomte Valade. But Gerald took it for the routine interest in an eligible bachelor, although he was aware many females had an eye for scarlet regimentals. ’ ‘He did, you know,’ grinned Gerald. He was only a younger son, and you know what trouble we had.
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