The strong fingers of one hand secured both her wrists there, and Melusine found herself chest to chest with him as he threw off his hat, and began to pat at her petticoat, searching for tell-tale protrusions. She could not help thinking of Capes. ‘How dull it must have been for you, poor little one. Why aren’t you folded up clean in lavender—as every young woman ought to be? What have you been doing with yourself?. And mind, your life,—more than your life—hangs upon your choice. “Here we are,” he said, “shining through each other like light through a stained-glass window.
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