For a few days she was fascinated by the place, exploring the moldy rooms, the weird treasures hiding in forgotten trousseaus. As he looked up at the massive tower, the clock tolled forth the hour of midnight. She had been in the drawing-room for a few minutes before the gong had sounded, and had chattered gaily to every one. Hastily, he reached for the door. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast. " "Never," replied Sheppard bitterly. Next moment, he had Melusine by the arm.
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