She could see that she was now the exclusive object of the boy’s attention. ‘Do you think I am afraid of a sword in the hand of a slip of a girl?’ For answer, Melusine lunged at him. ‘This is the way you tell me that you love me? You English idiot, you!’ He seized her wrists to hold her off, actually daring to laugh, much to Melusine’s increased fury. Her aunt had a once exasperating habit of interrupting her work with demands for small household services, but now Ann Veronica rendered them with a queer readiness of anticipatory propitiation. She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. ” She looked at him quizzically and shrugged. You see, I—I am a woman worshipper. Byby. ” “If you tempt me too much,” she said, after a silence, “I shall do it. She gulped for air merely, for it had been difficult to breathe with his hand almost cutting off the supply to her lungs. I think you’re wrong. He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view.
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