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" "I shall go mad myself if I listen to her longer," said Jack, attempting to rise. " And he led the way to an inner room, in the middle of which stood a table, covered with a large white cloth. If he had imagined Melusine would be hampered by her petticoats, he was disappointed. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. Immediately he grasped the fact that there was drama here, probably the old drama of the fugitive. A stomacher, fastened by imitationdiamond buckles, girded that part of her person, which should have been a waist; a coral necklace encircled her throat, and a few black patches, or mouches, as they were termed, served as a foil to the bloom of her cheek and chin. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. .
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