His sword done with, he took up the bludgeon; balanced it in his hand; upon the points of his fingers; and let it fall with a smash, intentionally, upon the table. Melusine shrieked an imprecation, and ran the length of the aisle, searching for the weapon she had thrown. There were the burnt papers still in the grate. “Call me Annabel. In the north they called her Manitou, in the south, Pabothkew. They decided quite audibly, “She’s an Old Dear, anyhow. Besides, the sun had gone in and it looked like rain. So it would always be between herself and Manning. What had she so nearly said? She had almost spoken a name—and quickly withdrawn it. He held her eyes. The life with which he had endued these sheets of paper began to beckon imperiously.
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