His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. ‘Do you mean to tell me,’ enquired the captain at length, ‘that you have had the infernal audacity, the—the gall, the—the— Gad, it’s an outrage! You’ve stolen a horse from a priest?’ ‘I did not steal it,’ protested Melusine hotly. “You’re a biologist, aren’t you?” He began to talk of his own impressions of biology as a commonplace magazine reader who had to get what he could from the monthly reviews, and was glad to meet with any information from nearer the fountainhead. As her belly swelled, so did he. . ’ There was sense in what she said, Melusine was obliged to concede. “I’d give anything to kiss your neck. A young man was playing the banjo. Only sat, staring at him, a puzzled look in her face.
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