"'Sdeath! do you trifle with me, sirrah?" cried Rowland fiercely. The strong fingers of one hand secured both her wrists there, and Melusine found herself chest to chest with him as he threw off his hat, and began to pat at her petticoat, searching for tell-tale protrusions. She could feel his breath on her skin, every hair on her arms and neck raised in response. "Mac, did you ever run across a missioner by the name of Enschede?" "Enschede?" McClintock stared at the ceiling. CHAPTER XIV Ruth lost the point entirely.
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