Melusine felt the calloused hand grasp around hers. "No Blueskin, I perceive, Sir," he observed, in a deferential tone, as Wild entered the Lodge. She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair. “I don’t see quite what your game is, Vee, but I suppose you’ve got a game on somewhere. "She is saying that you, a woman, will readily understand the position in which she finds herself.
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