We shall both, I hope, live to enjoy our shares—long after Thames Darrell is forgotten—ha! ha! A third of your estate I accept. I can’t do it even decently myself, and I dare not run the risk of ruining all my clothes. Sir John hesitated, and then continued. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait. ’ ‘You see? Not to be trusted,’ Hilary uttered disgustedly. 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. .
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