” He shook his head slowly, smiling mysteriously. You don’t know what you ask nor what you say. ‘And since the entire company and Pottiswick himself were unable to find hide nor hair of the infernal French female—’ ‘English, Hilary,’ Gerald reminded him. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. ‘Deaf? Deaf? I’ll have you know, miss—’ ‘Do not have me know anything,’ interrupted Melusine crossly, and digging into her habit, produced the fateful dagger that had cut Gerald’s hand. He had quite enough to see to and worry about in the City without their doing things. “She has nothing to be afraid of,” he continued. ’ ‘It is so in a convent, you see,’ she explained airily. It is the only way. . She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. ’” “Yes?” “I think—yes, I went on in a pleasing blend of the casual and sotto voce, ‘The fact of it is, sir, I happen to be your son-in-law, Capes.
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