‘Can’t you trust me a little?’ His touch sent shivers running through her, but Melusine did not withdraw her hand. “Do not be frightened, dear,” she said. She was practically an outcast, she had not even the ghost of a plan as to her future, and she had something less than five pounds in her pocket. What was the fellow doing in this part of the town? Had not Lady Bicknacre said he was living at Paddington? The Frenchman, booted and neat in buckskin breeches and a plain frockcoat, a flat-brimmed hat on his head, paused a moment at an intersection with one of the roads leading north, apparently seeking a street sign. Section 3. The Foundation makes no representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United States.
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