“Your mother was a Gypsy. ‘I suppose this is the cavalier you had with you when you—er—attended the ball the other night?’ ‘Jacques is very useful to me,’ Melusine confirmed, bestowing that same radiant smile on the young man, whose features were instantly suffused with scarlet. His orgasm was quick, spasmodic. Escape was now impossible. All the events of the previous day rushed to his recollection; and though he had been unintentionally the cause of his mother's death, he reproached himself as severely as if he had been her actual murderer. ’ ‘Do you care to test that theory?’ Gerald suggested easily. I’m that shamed to confess it, miss, but it were then I thought of Martha. She was sore and overstrung, and it was intolerable to her that he should stand within three yards of her unsuspectingly, with an incalculably vast power over her happiness.
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