“It was poison—why not?” she answered. ‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve. Plainly. ‘Now then, missie, where do you think you’re going?’ ‘I must see Jacques only for one little minute,’ Melusine told him prettily, fluttering her lashes. “Not at all. Such was the hubbub and tumult around him, that the carpenter could not hear its plunge into the flood. "You've got to kill me to get out of here alive.
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