Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. “Unless you have an appointment, which you haven’t,” he said, “you’ll only waste your time here. Nor as I’ve to put up with a French spy in my parlour—’ ‘Peste, how you talk,’ interrupted Melusine impatiently, barely taking in his complaints. "Zounds!" cried Kneebone, furiously. There were mysterious sounds, all of them musical. ABOUT THE STORY Annabel Pellissier, for reasons of her own, allows Sir John Ferringhall to believe that she is her sister Anna. “Yes,” she answered, looking away.
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