Then, quite insensibly, her queenliness had declined. ’ ‘No, perhaps not,’ Gerald agreed with a smile. ’ ‘Eh bien, you are not a saint,’ Melusine snapped. You must be lonely here with only a few men friends. It was enough. Sometimes I think you would have been much better off if you had been born in death-worshipping Egypt instead of in the Fourteenth Century. ’ Melusine remembered a thin man of sour aspect, living—like her father and his wife Suzanne—off the vicomte’s bounty. “I knew you would begin to see how it all falls into place together. Before he could fire a second shot, Jack had to defend himself from the thieftaker, who, with his drawn hanger, furiously assaulted him.
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