Ann Veronica, with a sigh at the cost of hospitality, made a hasty negotiation for an extra tea and for a fire in the groundfloor apartment, and preened herself carefully for the interview. She stood, as it were, directed doorward, with her eyes watching every movement, listening to him, repelled by him and yet dimly understanding. His inclinations prompted him most decidedly to take the vacant chair. He remained standing by the stem of the proa, his glance roving investigatingly. Melusine grasped the hilt of the sword she had been carefully holding, and came out into the light. “Stop!” He ran towards her. If only he had known it, sympathy was almost entirely with him. But before he could say anything, the vehicle rolled to a halt. He reached out a hand gropingly, sagged, and toppled out of the chair to the floor, where he lay very still. Wood glanced at the hardy offender, and not liking the expression of his countenance, thought it advisable to postpone the execution of his threats to a more favourable opportunity.
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