“Is this hansom for me?” she said. The man turned at the exclamation, and so did several of the bystanders; but they could not make out who had uttered it. "Jack," continued Thames, addressing Sheppard, who had only just recovered from the blow, and regained his feet, "I don't ask how you came here, nor do I blame your rashness in doing so. Then Melusine is in truth your granddaughter. Clotilde rushed out of the house, carrying her boy and tugging her girl by the ear. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page.
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