‘Ah, there is the little menace itself,’ he drawled, recovering some of his own sangfroid. Ramage looked at her for a long and discriminating interval without speaking. The picture of her flashed across the doctor's vision magically. Nothing anyone could say or do would change him. She was always asking questions about her mother and supplying the answers. Marina doted over her pregnant daughter, adorned in fine brocades, reassuring her that it was certain to be a either a baby boy or a girl of such great beauty she would eclipse them both. ’ ‘Yes, but I have not gone,’ Melusine said impatiently. “Is it your maid?” he asked.
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