‘And what the devil do you mean by demanding that I wait on you here? D’you think I haven’t enough to do handling that caper-witted female’s affairs, without dancing attendance on you?’ ‘Don’t be cross,’ begged Lucilla, much to Melusine’s disgust. "Nobody shall," cried Mr. ’ ‘It is you who is absurd,’ countered Melusine, the spark returning to her eye. She walked for a mile or more recklessly, close veiled, with swift level footsteps, though her brain was in a whirl and a horrible faintness all the time hovered about her. They bounced without merriment over bumpy Roman roads, and by the time they arrived she was extremely nauseous. I am your servitor.
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