If I’d known, there would have been a different story. He had the same dark eyes, though lighted by a fierce flame; the same sallow complexion; the same tall, thin figure, and majestic demeanour; the same proud cast of features. The young rascal had learnt from some of the women-servants that Lady Trafford was from home, and was in the very act of making off when I got down stairs. ‘Her name is Melusine Charvill,’ Gerald began. There was enough contra-light to render her ethereal. She winked at him as he shut the door. We LIKED each other well enough.
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