Melusine’s eyes blazed into his. ’ ‘Must we talk of it? I’m trying to forget it. And if you’ve any notion—’ ‘Yes, it is upstairs,’ Melusine agreed, crossing to the library door. Suddenly he burst into wild laughter; but equally as suddenly something strangled the sound in his throat. They all balk because there aren't any petticoats. From his pale skin and inky hair color it was apparent that his ancestry was half-Hispanic and half-European, perhaps French. “I heard nothing,” he declared, “and my ears are good. There were the burnt papers still in the grate. And Ritter’s, too, was very amusing and foreign and discreet; a little rambling room with a number of small tables, with red electric light shades and flowers. His voice when he spoke was almost fiercely assertive, but there was an undernote of nervousness.
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