’ ‘It is you who is absurd,’ countered Melusine, the spark returning to her eye. “You’re burning up. Mac—the old gossip—knew about everything going on in that part of the world; and if Enschede was anything up to the picture the girl had drawn, McClintock would have heard of him, naturally. I do not want to get only a second-hand flavour of life. ‘And I’d like to know what the devil—’ ‘Out of town?’ repeated Melusine, stupefied. Instinct had forced her to create something out of rags to satisfy a mysterious craving.
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