She was sitting on the mean straw mattress that was placed on the iron bedstead in the makeshift cell, while Melusine stood with her back to the door, confronting her old nurse with the truth. Is there anything you'd like?" "Books. Every now and then something familiar in her tone, the poise of her head, the play of her eyes startled him. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. Something or other—she did not catch what—he was damned if he could stand. “That doesn’t touch the question I asked you,” she said.
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