‘Where did you get that, miss?’ ‘It is the sword of monsieur le major. He did everything. Certainly I cannot kill you if you tell me to do so. ‘What’s this? Impertinence! French manners, is it?’ ‘Grace à vous,’ Melusine threw at him fiercely. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. ‘I’m determined to find out all about you, mademoiselle.
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