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‘Merci, Joan,’ cried Melusine, moving to her and seizing her hand which she clasped between both her own for a moment, as she turned to the others. They took her fingerprints sitting at the gray metal desk of Officer Nolte, the virile young buck who had brought her in. “Couldn’t we three go out and have some coffee somewhere? The thought of that drawing-room paralyses me. I went to her rooms to-night. I need hardly say that your aunt joins with me very heartily in this request. If it were but the question of his reason for marrying her, the solution would have been simple. I wish I could get you to imitate Thames Darrell. Section 2.
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