She was not a Christian woman. But in the appendix of the dictionary she had discovered magic names—Hugo, Dumas, Thackeray, Hawthorne, Lytton. Anyhow, there was some pleasurable satisfaction in knowing where the quarry would be for the next three weeks. ‘Eh bien?’ ‘You are perfectly right, Melusine. “Thank you,” she said coolly. Lucy was filled with happiness, it was her third Christmas at the Becks. There was only one clean spot in the picture—the ship's wash (all white) that fluttered on a line stretched between the two masts.
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