’ *** Martha sniffed dolefully, scrubbing at her reddened eyes with a large square of damp linen. This employment seemed to afford him the highest satisfaction; for a diabolical grin—it cannot be called a smile—played upon his face all the time he was engaged in it. He made it brief. “You really couldn’t ride in it,” he said, deprecatingly. ’ ‘And if she can’t?’ asked Lucy. ’ ‘It will be worth the pain, you will see. ‘Why?’ ‘Why take me to France? Why trouble himself with me, when so easily he could leave me to this Monsieur Remenham to keep?’ To Melusine’s instant suspicion, Martha bit her lip, drew a breath, and avoided her charge’s gaze. It isn’t.
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