” “But you,” she exclaimed, “you are not coming. ” “I am frightened of Sir John,” he said, “but I suggest that we risk it. There were mysterious sounds, all of them musical. ‘Do you think I am afraid of a sword in the hand of a slip of a girl?’ For answer, Melusine lunged at him. All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer. After some time, the scuffle grew more and more distant, until nothing could be heard. My name is Annabel, not Anna. This girl whom he had met by chance and befriended had done both.
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