His eyes on Melusine, he uncocked the pistol, and then reached out to the portrait, grasping it by one edge. "Ay, what's the matter, boy!" reiterated Jackson sternly. " "Didn't know but what I'd been out-bid. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. It was bad luck to go to Canongate. ‘Gerald, what have you been about? Dorothée tells me that you were flirting outrageously with Madame Valade on Monday night. But Miss Mary and me—’ Melusine looked up as the woman broke off again. Jack affected to close the door, but left it slightly ajar. She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar.
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