Gosse had moved forward, his pistol arm out straight, his aim true, the gun cocked. Following him, and acting out of instinct rather than intent, Melusine took a firm grasp of the gilt frame with both hands, lifted it high in the air and, with a shrieking curse, brought it down hard. I am bothered. It was comforting to have her there, snoring gently. The necessity of defending herself and assuming a confident and secure tone did much to dispell the sense of being exposed and indefensible in a huge dingy world that abounded in sinister possibilities. That is what they call these aristocratic refugees, the English. She watched, puzzled, as her cavalier frowned at the newcomer, glancing from him to Melusine and back again. . They were talking of “Alcide,” as they often did in those days. “I might go home, I don’t know. Her heartbeat quickened.
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