" "Iss, missis," grinned the black. Mr. Wood, who were, furthermore, engaged in a little conjugal tête-à-tête of their own. ‘Why?’ ‘Why take me to France? Why trouble himself with me, when so easily he could leave me to this Monsieur Remenham to keep?’ To Melusine’s instant suspicion, Martha bit her lip, drew a breath, and avoided her charge’s gaze. “Your mother was a Gypsy. We both understood that. After all, this could never be the black sheep. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. This also struck her as odd.
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