Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas. Waving a white flag, naturally. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. And the sergeant, having carried out all Melusine’s instructions as if they had come out of his own head, went up to check on his patient, apparently at last convinced that his prisoner would not attempt to run away. The perspiration stood out upon his forehead. "It's better," observed Sheppard, meaningly. It was, Ann Veronica felt, as a sip or so of that remarkable blend warmed her blood, just the sort of thing that her aunt would not approve, to be lunching thus, tete-a-tete with a man; and yet at the same time it was a perfectly innocent as well as agreeable proceeding. . Shocked, Melusine shot out of that blanketing warmth of sensation. Brendon’s had an awful stroke of luck. How fortunate that she recognises the resemblance. He declined supper, but took wine.
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