“Let’s go. C. ‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. Ramage stood up, and suddenly turned the key in the door in an off-hand manner. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. The old man Pottiswick, still grumbling, much to Melusine’s disgust, had gone on his errand to his daughter’s house some two miles distant. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.
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