‘But on the off chance—slim, I grant you —that there is a spy down there, I don’t want to miss the fun. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. “After all,” she said, “if this person will not be reasonable, I am afraid——” It was enough. Once more he was the searcher. She came quickly into the little parlour, which now seemed inordinately crowded, and coming up to Melusine, seized her hands in a warm clasp. . She moved towards it slowly and picked it up, holding it out in front of her whilst the familiar perfume seemed to assert itself with damning insistence. ” “Not long ago,” she said, “you left me in anger, partly because of this exchange of identities between Annabel and myself. She was particularly charmed by his theory of friendship.
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