Why? What is she to you?” “I was there by accident,” Ennison answered. So, you see—’ ‘Do not say any more,’ Melusine uttered, flinging away and moving to the fireplace. “How will you live?” she appealed. "But we must be getting along if we are to lunch in the tower of the water-clock. It was among artistic people. She leaned forward in her chair, as if petrified in fear by the scary story. There was no sense in creating further difficulties for herself by arguing with the sergeant over her identity. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair.
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