With a well-simulated unconcern and a heightened color she finished her breakfast. Earles asked sharply. He glanced down between the still narrow distance that lay between Melusine and himself, and discovered her hand there, a very small dagger within it. But he could only utter an inarticulate exclamation. He would know her address to-morrow. ‘Why do you think I told you about the portrait? I’d not seen it, of course, but I’d seen Miss Mary just before she got married, which is when it was painted. ‘Yes, do,’ approved Lucilla. He had.
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