"Mur—der!" roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled. How did you meet him?’ ‘He was wounded and came to the convent for sanctuary,’ Melusine told him, stung by his criticism into revealing more than she had intended. His name was Marvel, and his avocation, which was as repulsive as his looks, was that of public executioner. And will you look! His name neatly cut out from each title page. The party resolved itself for Ann Veronica into a game in which she manoeuvred unostentatiously and finally unsuccessfully to avoid talking alone with this gentleman. His fatigue was tacitly understood within the family; it was a phenomenon which everyone acknowledged as related to the trades.
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