You belong to me, and I have waited long enough. "She is my lawful wife. I do not admit the truth of a word which you have said. What do you mean by it, eh?’ ‘But I did not send it to you,’ Melusine rejoined instantly. The hope that had been suddenly kindled in the youth's bosom was as suddenly extinguished. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. Winifred's features would have been pretty, for they were regular and delicately formed, if they had not been slightly marked by the small-pox;—a disorder, that sometimes spares more than it destroys, and imparts an expression to be sought for in vain in the smoothest complexion.
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