“You cannot say that you did not expect me,” he answered. “I didn’t know you were half-Gypsy either. I will shed no more blood. You may enjoy your pride, your arrogance—in a coffin. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. “I don’t see what else I could have said,” he remarked. ” “Out with it, then,” he cried, almost roughly. You get the idea. And you, Mademoiselle Melusine, will support this claim. ’ The lodgekeeper’s jaw fell open.
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