The woman shrugged her shoulders. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. Ramage, that iron-gray man of the world, appeared dressed in a bowler hat and a suit of hard gray, astride of a black horse. “What you have done. Put him in the stocks, and there let him sleep off his drunken fit. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose. There's nothing on the card to indicate it, but I'm a detective. Martin’s eyes seemed about to pop out of his head. Mr. All that was needed to complete the simile was that the girl should burst into song. What was the name on those marriage lines you showed me?’ ‘M—Melusine,’ stammered the woman, her countenance yet registering shock. What was she going to do? One main idea possessed her: she must get away from home, she must assert herself at once or perish. . It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing.
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