He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. It was an impulse. ’ ‘I was called in, ma’am, to catch a French spy—at least, that is what Pottiswick thought. As if God would not continue to mock him so long as his brain held a human thought! God had given him a pearl without price, and he had misunderstood until this day. She was pleased and a little flattered by his interest and sympathy. For Melusine was on him again, the point of her sword lunging so that he backed up onto the dais.
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