I wish I could get you to imitate Thames Darrell. Two persons possessing a more comfortable stock of assurance could not be readily found. The library was on the ground floor, Melusine recalled from the previous visit, for she had searched through a desk in a room filled with bookshelves of leatherbound volumes. He scratched his upper lip reflectively. That’s probably true. From all angles he was at a disadvantage—in weight, skill, endurance. “I told you I did not love you. Here we are absconding, pretending to be what we are not; shady, to say the least of it.
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