" In stepping across the room, some sharp point in the floor pierced his foot, and stooping to examine it, he found that the wound had been inflicted by a long rusty nail, which projected from the boards. “How well and jolly you must be feeling. You must forgive the poet’s license I take. We’ll leave him here, with a couple of others. “My father’s sisters used once to live in the old manor house. I’m sorry to hurt your feelings. Melusine giggled, and tucked her hand into his. “Where are they?” She looked around. "Aha!" exclaimed Jackson. That it provided proof of the girl’s identity was one thing. Nothing could have been farther from Melusine’s mind.
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