CHAPTER XVIII. ” “Oh no he doesn’t. Gerald began to ease forward, deciding just how he would accost her. But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall. She produced from the depths of her pride the ugly investigatory note of the modern district visitor. Her hair was of the darkest brown, and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to her heels. And so your Melusine is busy trying to prove that she is the real one. I’ll protect you!” He cried. . A pity you did not think to tell me that part of the tale at the outset.
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