265 The madness crept around her like smoke under a door. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. With the broken links of the chain, which served him in lieu of more efficient implements, he commenced operations just above the chimney-piece, and soon contrived to pick a hole in the plaster. One side of the face was white with foamy lather and the other ruddy-cheeked and blue-jawed. “Get me some brandy and my bag. ” She replied. ’ Melusine gave it up. The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. ‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. “I wonder,” he said, “if women do know things by instinct? I have my doubts about feminine instinct.
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