John knew everybody, it seemed. ‘It is the life I know. For just as though a vague likeness is sometimes borne swiftly in upon one, so a vague dissimilarity between the face on the poster and the heroine of his thoughts had slowly crept into his consciousness. She was marvellously pretty, but he was not quite sure—yet—that it was advisable for him to sit with her in so public a place. The library was on the ground floor, Melusine recalled from the previous visit, for she had searched through a desk in a room filled with bookshelves of leatherbound volumes.
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