She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. ‘You see, it is that I have a plan to marry an Englishman. Pah! Damned Frenchified—’ ‘If you say again,’ threatened Melusine, moving to meet him like a jungle cat poised for the kill, ‘this scorn of a thing French, monsieur le baron, I shall be compelled to give you this apoplexy of which she speaks, madame. The Pursuit. 3. The door closed upon her, and he moved reluctantly away.
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