He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. But of what use to wear it when there was no one of importance to see and admire? ‘For shame, Melusine,’ protested Lucy, as the butler bowed himself out of the room. Just as he had succeeded in fixing his attention, it was again shaken, and he was almost unnerved by the sight of Mr. Captain Hilary Roding and his inamorata, Miss Lucilla Froxfield. “I think we are growing sensible,” he said.
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