He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. ’ ‘Hang it, Melusine!’ Losing patience, Gerald seized her by the arms. “What do you mean, hanging round with my wife?” he answered fiercely. “Much as I hate rows, I’ve either got to make a stand or give in altogether. ’ ‘Yes, it’s all my fault,’ he agreed soothingly, ‘and you may rail at me presently as much as you please. “John, of course I forgive you if it is what you need from me. Who was he to tread on her dreams? She had heroworshipped an unscrupulous adventurer, who had not hesitated to impose on her youth and her ignorance. Only a book detective could dope this out. “Do you know, I have been wondering what had become of you,” she said. From under his pillow he dragged forth the key to the trunk. .
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