Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. Besides these, there was a sturdylooking fellow, whom he instantly recognised as the honest blacksmith who had freed him from his irons at Tottenham. ’ Melusine had crossed to the window that overlooked the front of the house, and was trying to peep through a crack in the shutters.
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