CHAPTER I. " "From some of your associates?" "From your uncle, from my uncle,—Sir Rowland Trenchard. The strong fingers of one hand secured both her wrists there, and Melusine found herself chest to chest with him as he threw off his hat, and began to pat at her petticoat, searching for tell-tale protrusions. “Until a girl can go away as a son does and earn her independent income, she’s still on a string. ‘You would say that already then you love me?’ His glance was a caress and Melusine’s resolve weakened. —BRENDON. “Then you need to find someone else.
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