“I don’t believe there is one. Eh? Banging against the old rollers—that'll put some life into us both. Ramage,” she said, sharply, “I have to make it plain to you. ’ Melusine frowned, placing her hand on the letter lying on the table. “Don’t be childish, Annabel. On the mantelpiece in front of her was a note addressed to her in Annabel’s handwriting. You have converted me to—Lester Ward! You are my dear friend, you are a slip of a girl, but there are moments when my head has been on your breast, when your heart has been beating close to my ears, when I have known you for the goddess, when I have wished myself your slave, when I have wished that you could kill me for the joy of being killed by you.
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