‘Marry an Englishman! Which Englishman?’ Melusine shrugged. At last, she breathed. They drove up into Paris in an open fiacre with a soft cool wind blowing in their faces, hand in hand beneath the rug. At any rate she must see me. Sheppard, in a voice of agony. He knew not how to act, urged as he was in two directions. She laughed a little contemptuously. If I can’t talk anywhere else—I DO want an understanding. But there must be an Englishman who would like to marry her to get Remenham House. Ennison slightly——” There was a dead silence in the little room.
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