Not MY affair. "You are complimentary, Sir Rowland," returned the other, with a grim smile. 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. He was the junior of both his sisters, co-educated and much broken in to feminine society. At least I can’t talk to them. Her hair was the one part of her that did not exude the air of wealth.
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