His spirits revived, and encouraging himself with the idea that the present impediment, though the greatest, was the last, he set himself seriously to consider how it might best be overcome. "There's Sharples," cried Quilt. He heard Melusine cry out, but his attention was all for the nick he had made in her neck. The uncanny directness of those gray eyes, the absence of diffidence, the beauty of the face in profile (full, it seemed a little too broad to make for perfect beauty), the mellow voice that came full and free, without hesitance, all combined to mark her as the most unusual young woman he had ever met. Capes saw her, felt for her, cared for her greatly, even if he did not love her.
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