“Of course, one lives differently in Paris, but then—Paris is Paris. I had already won wars and sailed ships to distant lands by the time I was thirty. If you met her you would, I am certain, think her as fine as I do. The strong fingers of one hand secured both her wrists there, and Melusine found herself chest to chest with him as he threw off his hat, and began to pat at her petticoat, searching for tell-tale protrusions. The evening was warm and inviting, one meant to be spent outdoors. The candle was shaking in his hand as Ruth appeared in the doorway. The first circumstance that struck her on her arrival seemed ominous.
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