When she was quite sure that he was gone she took her sister’s note from the mantelpiece and slowly broke the seal. Martha had been careful to make no mention of Melusine, and did not reply to Mrs Ibstock’s enquiry about the fate of the little babe. John stared palely. “When you married me——” Her little hand flashed out across the table. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. “If I sit here,” he said, standing up before her abruptly, “I shall have to shout.
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