“Don’t!” she begged. “If one half of the stories about Meysey Hill are true,” he answered, “I would not stretch out my little finger to save his life. To find the true father at the expense of the beautiful fairy tale Ruth had woven around the woman in the locket was an intolerable thought. ‘Well,’ began Captain Roding, looking at Melusine, ‘you know those nuns of yours took up Valade—I mean, Gosse—and put him to bed to mend his wound, and I posted a guard outside his room so he couldn’t escape, for Gerald told you all that. I am used, you understand, to guard my secret.
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