“Don’t we all rather humbug about the coarseness? All we women, I mean,” said she. It was after all a momentary affair. On that first occasion, the delay in locating the entrance to the secret passage meant that she had to wait until morning to make her search. Moving to the shuttered window, Melusine dragged the heavy drapes back. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. “How do you feel?” she asked. ” “We will go together,” she answered. The emerald wings, slashed with scarlet and yellow, wheeling and swooping about her head, there among the wild plantain.
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