They are the only happy women in the Orient. ’ His finger came out and Melusine felt it stroke her cheek. Though scarcely two hours past midnight, it was perfectly light. This laughter released something that had been striving for expression—her own natural buoyancy. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. Melusine saw fire in his eyes and a streak of heat rushed through her to match it. Pah!’ She flounced about and, crossing to the bed, plonked down on it, pointedly averting her face and resting the large pistol in her lap.
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