” He threw open the door of the sitting-room and switched on the electric light. From a bi-secting street came shouting and music. “Ungracious little beast, I call her. ” Anna shook hands with Brendon—a young man also, but older and more selfpossessed than Sydney Courtlaw. She laid her hand upon his arm. She felt very awkward as she stared at 103 the top of his ashen hair. ‘Why have you come in here?’ demanded Melusine, turning on him. “But your sister,” he said. 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. Nature is God, Anna, and the greatest artist of us all a pigmy.
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