His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. ‘Don’t let us quarrel over your Leonardo,’ he said, summoning a faint smile. If he had got off, they might have hanged me, and welcome. I am called Melusine. " "Your secret?" demanded Trenchard, impatiently. At length, I shall ascertain my name. There was a pause, while the steel grey eyes sliced at her. " "That 'ud be no such easy matter," replied the countryman.
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