“Glad to see you in London. “Where is she?” He would yell even louder until she was sure that people in faraway fishing boats could probably hear him. And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. What was the name on those marriage lines you showed me?’ ‘M—Melusine,’ stammered the woman, her countenance yet registering shock.
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