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Melusine tapped on it. The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead. And the way he and the other men looked at her! The desire was plain on their faces, so many noblemen reduced to their simplest elements! They looked at her sideways, they looked at her backside, scanning her blue eyes and even looking right into her face. His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white. "My mother is avenged. It arises, I think, from an over developed sense of humour. If nothing else had clinched that, the purse had. She herself, and one other there, recognized the interposition of something akin to tragedy.
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