" "I'm sure I'm very sorry. . "I'll make myself intelligible before I've done," rejoined Wild. “Tell me,” she insisted, “why you look like that. The picture of Mary Remenham was still on the wall. Her eyes flashed and she withdrew the dagger, pulling away from him. He is probably very wealthy. She gathered up the chain, revealing a locket which had lain hidden in her bosom. Immediately beneath her lay Willesden,—the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis—with its scattered farm-houses, its noble granges, and its old grey church-tower just peeping above a grove of rook-haunted trees. Melusine, starved of colour for years, revelled in it. Then she looked up at Brendon.
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