" "I always detested Mrs. ’ ‘Also madame his wife—’ Charvill’s gorge rose. She calmed herself, breathing deeply. But her cries, instead of moving her assailant's compassion, only added to his fury. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. ‘Um—begging your pardon, sir, but—um—what was you meaning to arrest the young lady for?’ ‘Trespassing, theft, and suspicion of spying,’ announced Roding fluently. ‘Melusine was making herself mistress of them when we met. She did not have the power of men.
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