Wood," she cried, as the staff fell from his grasp. ’ ‘You were always someone, Melusine. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. For a few minutes, Darrell seemed to have the advantage in the conflict. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered.
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