Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. “I feel justified then,” he said, “in annexing his chair. ’ ‘I know,’ he said, smiling. Leave the rest to me. We'll try whether he'll get loose again. Recovering herself, Melusine tucked the weapons out of sight, down into the deep holsters hidden under the petticoat of her riding habit, and went back into the house where Martha awaited her in some impatience. She tolerated spitballs in her curly hair and had to buy a new backpack when hers was stolen.
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