" CHAPTER XIV. ” “I say, you know, you have some pluck. “He’s a Fellow of the Royal Society, and he can’t be much over thirty,” said Miss Klegg. Courtlaw, is it not,” she remarked, with lifted eyebrows. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. Melusine grasped the hilt of the sword she had been carefully holding, and came out into the light.
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