Jack fell on his knees beside her. ‘What can I do, miss?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ cried Melusine. But, by Jove! you are fierce! You are like those Roman women who carry stilettos in their hair. She wasn’t sure of herself when she said it. Of you, I mean. Jack was not half your age when he died. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. ’ ‘Oh, have you?’ grunted Gerald, surprising in himself a surge of some odd emotion at these words.
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