Her cheeks were the colour of chalk, her eyes were filled with terror. Major said you’d gorn. ‘Do you think I am afraid of a sword in the hand of a slip of a girl?’ For answer, Melusine lunged at him. She was going through a new world with him side by side. One day it was gone. She really must not go to that affair. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. If she mentioned Ramage he might have a fit—anything might happen. This also struck her as odd. The subject matter was generally worthless, but the handling was well done.
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