Living’s just material. The Pursuit 425 XXV. He picked up the broken fiddle and beckoned. His voice propelled her to cry even harder, so hard that she began to laugh behind her tears. " "Not quite, I hope," rejoined Sheppard. " "A secret!" exclaimed Trenchard. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. She dropped the locket into its sweet hiding place. By the time she arrived at the Beck’s doorstep, the morning was risen. But her words were not addressed to Melusine. “It is concerning—our future relations,” Sir John pronounced ponderously.
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