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There was a shrill cry, instantly succeeded by a deep splash. She would look up, shake her head, and then go back to her reading or crewelwork. “No doubt about that, I fancy,” Meddoes answered lightly. Pah! Damned Frenchified—’ ‘If you say again,’ threatened Melusine, moving to meet him like a jungle cat poised for the kill, ‘this scorn of a thing French, monsieur le baron, I shall be compelled to give you this apoplexy of which she speaks, madame. He removed his cocked hat and came towards her. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. Very well, then. "I forgot. Dunster shall fetch you a cab.
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