Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. The atmosphere at dinner was not propitious. He was alone, hatless and without his boots, and he held a wicked-looking French-made duelling pistol, covered in silver and gold— property no doubt, was Melusine’s fleeting thought, of the late vicomte. In vain did the woollendraper offer to set him free if he would restore the stolen article, or give up his associate, to whom it was supposed he might have handed it. \"Thank you. Even you have not been able to hold her back. “I never dreamt!” she said.
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