The girl was pretty, and apparently a lady. He brightened as she took off her hood. Swiftly he looked back to Melusine and found she had whisked to the window, dragging a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve and hastily blowing her nose. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. What lends a tragic mockery to all these tender traps of hers was that she was within lawful bounds. She looked at it with a little shudder, but she made no motion to take it.
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