The conversation which her entrance had interrupted began to buzz again all around her. ‘What mischief?’ ‘I don’t know, but I’ll go bail you’re at something. It had been a part of the vast domain of the servants in the house’s earlier incarnation. Melusine sighed with relief at being alone at last and free to resume her search among the portraits. Oh, Mr Jarvis paid no mind,’ she added hastily, as if expecting disapproval. She went to the post-office and drew out and sent off her money to Ramage. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. ” Lucy relied. .
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