ch. A victim of one of those mental typhoons that scatter irretrievably the barriers of instinct and breeding; and he had gone on the rocks all in a moment. “I will not intrude upon you further. "Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely. I ——” He stopped short. ‘Melusine…Melusine. You'll do. Yours?" The stranger hesitated. " A smile broke the set of Ah Cum's lips. ” A little blond creature close at hand suddenly gave way to a fit of hysterical laughter, and caught up the end of it with a sob. After all, he had the means of setting this tormenting doubt at rest. “Rubbish!” he answered. No more. It did not matter in the least what name the young fellow was travelling under; all James Boyle O'Higgins wanted was the letter H. Hill, Meysey Hill.
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