” He began. “I cannot but conclude,” he said, “that your errand involved the recital to my wife of some trouble in which you find yourself. Shocked, Melusine shot out of that blanketing warmth of sensation. This time they would call it murder. ‘Your mystery lady, I mean. She held out her arm straight before her, and turned her hand this way and that. But David Courtlaw has been here. '—'It's not to be thought of,' says I, thumping the table till every glass on it jingled; 'and I know a way as'll prevent it. You’ll be telling me Gerald did not catch you snooping at the Bicknacres, I suppose.
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