‘Will you let be?’ Instead she grasped his hand tighter. He reminds me of a slave I once had in Rome with those sullen dark eyes and that wistful pout. ‘Here were you patiently waiting, without uttering one word of complaint the entire time, which of course you never do, being yourself a female altogether of a disposition extremely sweet and charming without the least vestige of a temper—’ ‘Gérard,’ Melusine uttered on a warning note, desperately trying to control the quiver at her lip. Springing to his feet in an ecstasy of terror, he stumbled, and had well nigh realized his worst apprehensions.
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