"You have always been, far dearer to me than myself," replied Mrs. ‘Here you, Pottiswick. Plays Beethoven, Rubenstein and all those chaps. "Here, wife—hostess—fetch me that bottle from the second shelf in the corner cupboard. ” She laughed gaily. He beamed a little as she disappeared into the orchestra room, a cacophony of tuning instruments. For an instant, Melusine watched him go. Though the starling was more than two feet above the level of the water, he alighted with his little charge—which he had never for an instant quitted—in safety upon it. "In Heaven's name! what's all this?" cried Wood.
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