Gosse must now fight with his back to the altar, and a dais at his heels. ‘Jacques!’ Melusine dropped to her haunches beside his inert form, feeling for the wound. For a moment her thoughts led her back to the evening when she and Courtlaw had stood together before the window of her studio in Paris, before the coming of Sir John had made so many changes in her life. Sir John and Annabel seated themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a waiter. It’s the rarest luck, the wildest, most impossible accident. ’ ‘Never mind the comtesse,’ adjured Prudence. Melusine whirled.
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