"In Canton. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword. The unpleasant oily chill of fever overtook her body, and she watched in horror as Sebastian carried her to his bed on his shoulder like a sack of flour. “Flesh and flowers are all alike to me. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. She could have kissed Cathy. I asked him why, and he hadn’t a reason. ’ ‘But me, I am not very good with accepting,’ Melusine said bitterly over her shoulder.
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