” He smiled bitterly as he handed her from the cab. ’ Chapter Twelve In the elegantly appointed blue saloon, Melusine sat disconsolate, gazing out of the window at the dull sky. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. Sheppard, averting her face to hide her tears. " "Impossible!" cried Jonathan. " "What is this to me, Sir?" said Trenchard, cutting him short. It did not take a mind reader to glean that she had suddenly gained the boy’s obsessive attention. "I don't understand you, gentlemen," stammered he, at length. ’ ‘That’s fortunate,’ murmured Lucilla.
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