"Drink this," cried Jonathan, handing her the cup. Melusine started back, blinking. He glanced at the ruins of his High Priestess. His eyes caught at hers with passionate inquiries. Having ascertained by the breathing which room Thames occupied, he speedily contrived to fasten him in. Her aunt arrived about halfpast ten, in black and with an unusually thick spotted veil. “This,” he exclaimed, “must be either the indifference of an utterly callous nature, or it may be—ye gods, it may be—innocence. "Confusion!" ejaculated Jonathan: "can he have escaped? No.
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