Too much, perhaps. It was wrenched away from Melusine’s clutching hands. ’ I don’t know what you’d call it —a sort of witchery, almost suggestiveness. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. You have thought it worth while to take some considerable pains to resolve for yourself my sister’s identity. " "Go, I insist," cried Thames, "or take the consequences upon yourself. Suppose her father turned her out of doors! She did not care, she meant to go.
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