There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. Such was the effect produced upon the passengers by his good looks and manly deportment, that few—especially of the gentler and more susceptible sex—failed to turn round and bestow a second glance upon the handsome stranger. Nothing to check their proceedings but a declining habit of telling the truth and the limitations of their imaginations. ‘But can you? You don’t know Melusine for Mary Remenham’s daughter, any more than I do. ‘You’ve found her out?’ ‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield. Am I going to die?” “I am afraid that you are in a dangerous state,” Courtlaw answered gravely. “And yet I do it without compunction. And we won’t make it so. ’ Reminiscence made him smile.
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