Let me keep him. The library was on the ground floor, Melusine recalled from the previous visit, for she had searched through a desk in a room filled with bookshelves of leatherbound volumes. All these interesting objects were carefully arranged, classed, and, as we have said, labelled by the thief-taker. "Ah! traitor!" cried Jack, pulling the trigger of his pistol. Then he was surrounded by black-clad nuns, and Melusine felt an unknown hand grab away her own sword. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb.
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