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’ ‘Oui, mais—’ ‘You are, without exception, the most unprincipled, the most unscrupulous, the most shameless, immoral, devious—’ ‘Pardon me, sir,’ burst in Mrs Ibstock suddenly, her tone belligerent, bringing the captain’s tirade to an abrupt halt as he turned to glare at her. “I am afraid,” he said gravely, “that your sister has been a little indiscreet. In each corner stood a stout square post reaching to the ceiling. He kissed her lightly on the lips. ‘What can I do, miss?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ cried Melusine. See? Down we should rush in a foam—in a cloud of snow—to flight and a dream.
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