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“You know,” he muttered, “you know quite well that your troubles are far more likely to weigh upon me than my own. ‘What can I do, miss?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ cried Melusine. ’ Gerald was staring at her, an arrested expression on his face. A piece of seaweed touched her hand, tender and green. Spurling, for so was she named, had a warm nut-brown complexion, almost as dark as a Creole; and a moustache on her upper lip, that would have done no discredit to the oldest dragoon in the King's service. Once a thriving town before the Pestilence, most of the buildings and the piers had been destroyed or burned.

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