"You're not hurt I hope, Sir Rowland?" inquired this individual. I cannot answer that question. And, as he quitted the room, the poor widow fell with her face upon the floor. Then he was surrounded by black-clad nuns, and Melusine felt an unknown hand grab away her own sword. Dolby smiled. She had been in the drawing-room for a few minutes before the gong had sounded, and had chattered gaily to every one. Women are not in the world in the same sense that men are—fighting individuals in a scramble. ’ ‘You say—what?’ gasped Melusine.
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