Rhea laughed and lunged for the broadsword that Sebastian had carelessly left lying on the ground. She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. This is also the ragged edge of the world, too. She dropped a flower—it’s in my pocket-book now. Did I not say so, Hilary?’ Melusine’s glance shot across to the newcomer, and found a petite blonde standing there, very fashionably attired in a velvet mantel over an apple-green robe, the furred hood framing a face alive with mischief. It was just a chance that we in particular hit against each other—nothing predestined about it. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave.
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