"God forgive me for using such a word!" he cried, in a troubled tone; "if I hadn't yielded to my wife's silly request, this wouldn't have happened!" CHAPTER VII. ‘Mad as hatters!’ ‘It is you who is mad,’ mademoiselle told him crossly. ’ ‘But tell,’ demanded Melusine impatiently. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. ‘Small wonder in a way that he found hisself consolation elsewhere. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard. . And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it.
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