’ Chapter Twelve In the elegantly appointed blue saloon, Melusine sat disconsolate, gazing out of the window at the dull sky. . ‘Am I right in supposing you to have been a sister to the late Mr Jarvis Remenham?’ ‘Quite right. Her mind jumped with questions as fear raced through her and hardened into a bid for retaliation. But send me word. “I have always,” she admitted calmly, “taken a certain amount of interest in Annabel’s future. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees. When Mr. . “These are the playgrounds of life.
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