” He pronounced this with an air of profound conviction and with his eyes on Ann Veronica’s face. Did I not say so, Hilary?’ Melusine’s glance shot across to the newcomer, and found a petite blonde standing there, very fashionably attired in a velvet mantel over an apple-green robe, the furred hood framing a face alive with mischief. Wood in the deepest mourning. ‘When we met probably, and you threatened me at the first. Painting is only one slender branch of the great tree. ’ She bit her lip, but her eyes betrayed her. It was like the grin of a fiend, and made my flesh creep on my bones. The uncanny directness of those gray eyes, the absence of diffidence, the beauty of the face in profile (full, it seemed a little too broad to make for perfect beauty), the mellow voice that came full and free, without hesitance, all combined to mark her as the most unusual young woman he had ever met.
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