The ruffian's companions took his part. They're on the forward lounge in the saloon. ‘Now then, missie, where do you think you’re going?’ ‘I must see Jacques only for one little minute,’ Melusine told him prettily, fluttering her lashes. You see, the trouble is that the matter is in dispute. His glance swept up again and found her staring at him with much of her usual defiance, if a touch less of her customary assurance. “I know. " But she did not complete the thought aloud. Some part of the stiff vigour of the man seemed to have subsided. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. ‘Oh, we was always in there, miss,’ admitted Joan, moving closer.
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