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’ ‘Do not hope it,’ returned Melusine, snapping uncontrollably. Master, your humble servant. Besides, he might hear things. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. Chapter XXIV A CASE FOR THE POLICE After that first horrible moment it was perhaps Anna who was the more selfpossessed. ’ The command was accompanied by an increase of pressure on the wrist he held.

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