But it looked as if the boy was not going to be of much use. ’ ‘Melusine, did you say?’ Mrs Sindlesham sighed. Marvel held her handkerchief to her eyes, and appeared in great distress. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. No man knew whence she had come nor why. Once inside, he looked around, worried that his parents would suddenly cancel their trip and return home. It gave her joy to see them laughing, even though she was unsure of what she had done wrong. "Your answer, gem'men?" demanded Sharples. The Victorians over-did it a little, I admit.
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