’ Melusine did not reply. I understand nothing of what you say. ” She changed the subject abruptly. He began a jerky, broken conversation that lasted until they reached the station, and left her puzzled at its drift and meaning. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. She could not judge its direction, and began to move swiftly along the bookshelves, her hand running behind her across the spines of the calfbound volumes. " "I've just bethought me of a crib as'll serve their turn," interposed Sharples, "at any rate, they'll be out o' the vay, and as safe as two chicks in a coop. “Who do you think cares for your children as you dally with my husband, Clotilde?” Lucy asked.
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