‘Your mystery lady, I mean. ‘Good, good—and not before time,’ muttered Roding, glancing round again. A new restlessness seemed to have stolen in upon her. “Our interest lies in heading them off. Voilà tout, as Melusine herself would say. Ah Cum, sensing the difficulty, approached, recovered the damp handkerchief and returned it. ” He panted. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. " "Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard. ‘The more I hear about this Leonardo,’ Lucy said severely, ‘the more I want to meet your Melusine. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune.
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