It was an impulse. For a time it really seemed all-sufficient to her that she should love. The light was poor, so that she saw their gleaming faces dimly and indistinctly. Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought. The reply he received this time put him into a state of continuous bewilderment. She blew on the hand cannon and grabbed her bag of gunpowder. . “Annabel at last,” he shouted. Turning to Melusine, he grabbed both her wrists and held her away from him, as if afraid that she might go for him.
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