So, you see—’ ‘Do not say any more,’ Melusine uttered, flinging away and moving to the fireplace. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. She kicked him in the shin, trying to knock him off his feet. Brendon told him the name of a distant restaurant and sprang in by her side. ‘Doesn’t she, Gerald?’ Gerald held up his hands. He brought his mother to call, and as you know the Countess goes scarcely anywhere. I should like Mr.
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