He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. Later in the evening she heard him whistling, poor man! She felt very restless and excited. “Don’t!” she begged. ’ ‘Why should I?’ ‘Because I can’t live without you!’ ‘That is your own affair, and—’ Melusine broke off, staring at him, shocked realisation kicking in her gut. Besides, revenge is sweetened by delay; and I indulge too freely in the passion to rob it of any of its zest. ‘What do you think?’ ‘What do I think?’ repeated Captain Roding.
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