An unhappy little sigh escaped her. But, since I've seen the friend and companion of my childhood, Thames Darrell, I've no heart for it. As silent as she had remained about who had brought her home last night. As Mrs. “Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us. Both McCloskeys disappeared on the same night, without a single trace. You don’t know the thoughts we have; the things we can do and say. “Thank you,” he said, “for letting me back. She was enchanted by the beauty of the other girls, who were magically transformed into fairies and elves by makeup into seemingly unfamiliar yet glamorous new people. But Melusine had overcome the weakness, calling the loss but a temporary setback. As Leonardo had himself pronounced, who better than a mountebank to teach of the perils awaiting the unwary? Who better than a wastrel to demonstrate the worth of thrift? And who could instruct better in the matter of affections than one who had thrown them away? ‘If he had loved me,’ she said, in the flat tone she had learned to use to conceal her vulnerable heart, ‘he would have left me at Remenham House to live a life of an English lady. He might not condone it, but the feelings that had prompted it augured well for Melusine’s safety. Don't feel fussed upon my account.
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