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Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. Ah Cum explained. She admitted her pleasure to Ramage. She noticed an odd new gleam in Michelle’s eyes, a focus she had not noticed before. ‘Ah, there is the little menace itself,’ he drawled, recovering some of his own sangfroid. “Really, I do not know why I should have doubted it. Let’s go up to my room. Oh, and only look at those stains,’ cried Miss Froxfield, gesturing at the blood on the ruffles to the sleeves of Melusine’s riding-habit, and on the chemise she wore under it. ‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. It was not possible. She had tried him as a Crusader, in which guise he seemed plausible but heavy—“There IS something heavy about him; I wonder if it’s his mustache?”—and as a Hussar, which made him preposterous, and as a Black Brunswicker, which was better, and as an Arab sheik. ” “I suppose not. Shari regaled Lucy with soap operatic tales of boy-girl intrigues at the high school, then spoke of her aspirations for the future. But that Chink, Ah Cum! O'Higgins chuckled as he passed into the hall and rested his hand on the newel-post of the staircase.
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