Besides, your remark is not in the least complimentary. The library was on the ground floor, Melusine recalled from the previous visit, for she had searched through a desk in a room filled with bookshelves of leatherbound volumes. The girl was flushed with excitement, bright-eyed, and braced for a struggle; her aunt had never seen her looking so fine or so pretty. Footman or some such. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. Then a servant girl brought in a telegram.
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