Gold-handled, too. ‘Nothing would do for her but to come here,’ grumbled Hilary, wiping his heated brow with a pocket handkerchief dragged from his immaculate white uniform breeches. I shall barely be in time for the theatre. ‘For kissing you, or for not meaning to do so?’ ‘Imbecile,’ exclaimed Melusine impatiently. The pursuit of pleasure, selfgratification, is an original instinct with her. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key.
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