“I am afraid,” he said gravely, “that your sister has been a little indiscreet. Melusine ripped strips off her under-petticoats and fashioned a pad, which she bandaged as tightly as she could over the wound, working swiftly, unperturbed by the gore. She had done forever with the Age of Chivalry, and her own base adaptations of its traditions to the compromising life. Her features were meagre, and ghastly white, and had the fixed and horrible stamp of insanity. ’ ‘Oh, peste,’ exclaimed Melusine crossly. "My sight is failing me. Yet there was nothing for her to do.
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