"These writer chaps are queer birds. This whole affair is truly my fault. ’ The one ray of light lifted Melusine’s gloom a little and she smiled. "Would I had never seen either of you!" cried Jack, rising and pacing the apartment with a hurried step. . On the other a wretched engraving of the Chevalier de Saint George, or, as he was styled in the label attached to the portrait, James the Third, raised a suspicion that the inmate of the house was not altogether free from some tincture of Jacobitism. ‘Yes, th-there it is,’ she uttered, stumbling a little over the words. " "Come along!" cried Jack, darting through the door. Her steps slowed.
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