Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. “But for you Dad would never have let me marry Lescelles. Can I give him any message for you?” “Thank you,” Anna answered. "Just in time," said the thief-taker. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth. She tied the obi clumsily about her waist, then gently laid her hand on the bowed head. No surprise, for Melusine was aware no Frenchman in his situation would dream of walking abroad unarmed.
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