She didn’t choose her man. The contest, however, though desperate, was brief. ‘I suppose this is the cavalier you had with you when you—er—attended the ball the other night?’ ‘Jacques is very useful to me,’ Melusine confirmed, bestowing that same radiant smile on the young man, whose features were instantly suffused with scarlet. So, at least, thought one of two persons who were seated together in a small back-parlour of the house at Dollis Hill. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. You'd not know what to do without me, and shan't drive me off.
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