’ Melusine spread her hands and sighed. "There it is!" cried Sir James, eagerly. "You are an angel," she cried, with a look beaming with delight. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. A great bowl of scarlet carnations gleamed from a dark corner, set against the background of a deep brown wall. She was alarmed at how little her husband Gianfrancesco packed for the trip, leaving behind his best scarlet and black lucco, which he wore for every business and political meeting. Ramage did not know.
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