Melusine shrieked an imprecation, and ran the length of the aisle, searching for the weapon she had thrown. “Garçon,” he said, “will you ask the gentleman at the next table if he will do me the honour of taking a glass of wine with me. Terror had laid a paralyzing hand upon her, fear kept her almost unconscious of the curious glances which she was continually attracting. “You did not tell me that you were going out, or I would have offered my escort. ‘You the fellow Gerald spoke to?’ Kimble flushed beetroot, and Melusine had a flash of insight. ‘Small wonder in a way that he found hisself consolation elsewhere. ’ ‘Very well, Melusine, you win,’ Gerald said unguardedly, and dug his hand into his pocket. .
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