"I don't know how it is," he added in a low voice to Thames, as they were left alone, "but I've a strange foreboding of ill. His eyes on Melusine, he uncocked the pistol, and then reached out to the portrait, grasping it by one edge. " He opened his eyes, to behold hers large with wonder. The atmosphere seemed heavy with the odour of drugs. ‘Jacques! This—this bête he attacks me, and you stand there and you do nothing. Part of her even believed that her mother would have wanted her to stop feeling guilty and to be happy. "Don't be angry with me, Thames," continued Sheppard, in a tone calculated, as he thought, to appease his companion's indignation.
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