Melusine saw fire in his eyes and a streak of heat rushed through her to match it. "Don't look at it, I entreat," she cried. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. Lucy had snuck in the back door by the kitchen and Sheila was ready for her, standing between the stove 124 and the refrigerator. Besides, she had admitted her identity. “Oh, that. Gerald at once lowered his voice to that intimate level again, and leaned towards her.
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