Anna’s face was half turned from him, but her expression, and the tone of her monosyllable puzzled him. “This wonderful affection of yours for my sister, does it date from your first meeting with her in Paris?” He hesitated. Once he chuckled aloud. “It is too late for visitors,” she remarked. She came quickly into the little parlour, which now seemed inordinately crowded, and coming up to Melusine, seized her hands in a warm clasp. Besides these, there was a sturdylooking fellow, whom he instantly recognised as the honest blacksmith who had freed him from his irons at Tottenham. The pistol fell to the floor.
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