She seized the key, and he grasped her hand and squeezed it roughly and painfully between the handle and the ward as she tried to turn it. She hated tricking Shari, whose joy for life was the only thing that made her naive enough to fall for laced iced tea or hot cocoa, depending on the season. He spent the evening telling her stories of Greece as she sat in front of a roaring fire. After quarter of an hour, she followed. ’ ‘You will not arrest him, because I will shoot you first,’ snapped Melusine. Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. I met you here as Lady Ferringhall.
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