"But, where's the strange gentleman I saw under the table?" "Under the table!" echoed Blueskin, winking at Jack. The Widgett method of thought puzzled her weakly rhetorical mind. She was an indignant queen, no doubt she was alarmed and disgusted within limits; but she was highly excited, and there was something, some low adventurous strain in her being, some element, subtle at least if base, going about the rioting ways and crowded insurgent meeting-places of her mind declaring that the whole affair was after all—they are the only words that express it—a very great lark indeed. He might go on as the devoted lover until he tired. He bowed over her hand, venturing to drop a kiss on it’s leathery surface. She kissed him on the bridge of his nose. He will be sorry when he knows who I am,’ decided Melusine with satisfaction.
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