‘Though he didn’t mean it. “None, I thank you,” he answered. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. “I wish you didn’t. She just sat and told me that was her arrangement. Pah! Damned Frenchified—’ ‘If you say again,’ threatened Melusine, moving to meet him like a jungle cat poised for the kill, ‘this scorn of a thing French, monsieur le baron, I shall be compelled to give you this apoplexy of which she speaks, madame. Spiders came out of their hiding places to commune in windows, industriously spinning their own designs over the stained glass.
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