‘Sir?’ enquired the lad. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise. “Well?” “You and all the rest of them are always lamenting that I do not marry. She waited expectantly. ‘It was a good chance for a new life,’ Joan explained, venturing to face Melusine again, ‘and Martha took it. It made me wake up, and there I lay thinking of you, spending your nights up here all alone, and no one to look after you. Luckily I’m not. The Pursuit.
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