The tall, blond boys, right?” “That’s them. Wood's reply, if he intended any, was cut short by a loud knocking at the door. “It was a bad day for me,” he said, speaking slowly and painfully. Jonathan threw open the street-door. She watched, puzzled, as her cavalier frowned at the newcomer, glancing from him to Melusine and back again. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest. " "Exactly my sentiments," rejoined Blueskin.
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