Recovering herself, Melusine tucked the weapons out of sight, down into the deep holsters hidden under the petticoat of her riding habit, and went back into the house where Martha awaited her in some impatience. They had their little dreams about her. Mr. “I knew of course that you were at the Montressor’s, but I had no idea that it was a music hall party afterwards. They moved fast. Will you find your destiny, I wonder, or will you go through life like so many others—a wanderer, knocking ever at empty doors, homeless to the last? Oh, if one could but find the way to your heart. Later, at the bottom of that envelope I found a letter.
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