” “And he sat at my table,” Annabel said bitterly, “and yet he did not know me. I think over all sorts of things. ’ ‘Parbleu,’ burst from Melusine indignantly. Sheppard, and neither deserve nor desire your thanks. ’ Melusine could not regard this view with anything but scepticism. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. It has instead found you. What was the name on those marriage lines you showed me?’ ‘M—Melusine,’ stammered the woman, her countenance yet registering shock.
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