Brendon looked across the room at her thoughtfully. Aware of his father's inflexibility of purpose, he set his wits to work to defeat the design. "I can," replied Trenchard. He left that arid rule clear of the least mist of refinement or delicacy. You're an angel of goodness. Soon I shall make my début, that it will be known that I am the real Melusine Charvill, and then I shall not require the services any longer of this imbecile of a Gérard. Your life, and that of your child, are in my power. "Hands off!" she exclaimed, "or you'll repent it. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk.
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