She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. Whence she came,—who she was,—and what she wanted,—were questions which naturally suggested themselves to Blueskin, and he was about to seek for some explanation, when his curiosity was checked by a gesture of silence from the lady. He saw that she was tense. ‘I told you I would find out all about you, Melusine. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side.
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