His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage. ’ Melusine’s eyes flashed. . “If one was free,” she said, “one could go to him. "You are my prisoner. Earles?” he inquired. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. “But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest.
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