"Bess wouldn't bear a rival. But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague. ’ ‘Oh, peste,’ exclaimed Melusine crossly. ’ Kimble chewed his lip, but his hostility was visibly lessening. She had denied it with vigor, and here she was! She did not so much exhaust this general question as pass from it to her insoluble individual problem again: “What am I to do?” She wanted first of all to fling the forty pounds back into Ramage’s face. You can do it, if you will. As she averted her gaze, a terrible idea crossed her.
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