Chapter Four Two days later, it was quite another Melusine who confronted a young lad on a sunny morning, at variance with her bleak mood. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. “A wonderful piece of work,” he declared. He haunted a state between hectic dreaming and mild delirium, and she found herself talking aloud to him. The next minute, I contrived, without either of 'em perceiving me, to convey it into my own pocket. ‘Can’t you trust me a little?’ His touch sent shivers running through her, but Melusine did not withdraw her hand. Why? Here was a curtain indeed. John, he was between me and the door. It was about twelve feet high, nine wide, and fourteen long; and was approached by double doors each six inches thick.
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