While she worked, Melusine worried over the problem of getting Jack home. Eluding the blow, Jack plucked his sword from the scabbard, and a desperate conflict began. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. “Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?” He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could possibly be in earnest. ’ ‘Don’t start arguing again, for God’s sake,’ snapped Roding irritably, dragging out his own large pocket-handkerchief. Not that he deliberately courted danger; it was rather the searcher, seeking analysis, the why and wherefore of this or that invading emotion.
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