"Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely. In all her life no living thing had had to depend upon her, not even a dog or a cat. If she was in a position to help him she would help him; only it happened to be the other way round. I spend many delightful hours thinking of the pleasant and beautiful things of life. Did he intend to kill her now, this instant? Or had she a moment or two to try to save herself? Recalling Leonardo’s dictum, she did not struggle, for that would only tighten the trap about her, and perhaps even spring it. He turned back at once. " "Does that villain still maintain his power?" asked the stranger sternly. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. Now I’d like the rest of your story. ’ ‘I thought you were dead,’ Melusine confided.
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