She was sitting on the mean straw mattress that was placed on the iron bedstead in the makeshift cell, while Melusine stood with her back to the door, confronting her old nurse with the truth. It is the old story of a Westerner meddling with an Eastern custom. “If I were to marry now,” she said, “it would be with a sense of humiliation. "Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. It was Annabel who spoke. He suddenly became eloquent and plausible.
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