CHAPTER X. “Yeah, I’ve heard that story. ’ ‘Eh bien, you are not a saint,’ Melusine snapped. How old are you?’ ‘I have nineteen years, and it is quite unimportant. Melusine sighed with relief at being alone at last and free to resume her search among the portraits. "Much better," said Mrs. " Meanwhile, the party at the table continued drinking and chatting as merrily as before. "But, pardon my intrusion. Melusine, intent on the luckless Kimble, did not care. “My husband!” she laughed a little derisively. She returned home to the Beck house soaked and soggy.
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