Kneebone, are these your French noblemen?" "Don't upbraid me!" rejoined the woollen-draper. The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth. What the devil is her name, now we know she isn’t you?’ ‘Yolande,’ supplied Melusine. From this sorrowful state he was aroused by a loud derisive whistle, followed by a still louder laugh; and, looking up, he beheld the impudent countenance of Jack Sheppard immediately before him. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment.
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