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Who is the other?” “What other?” Her voice seemed to come from a long way off. Melusine feigned a displeased frown. He went on. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. ’ Melusine shifted her shoulders. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. This was no light conquest; nor was it a government easily maintained. Mike was showing his territorial instincts, brought out by the fact that he was drunk. ‘Though he didn’t mean it. He had absorbed her in a single glance, and was now defining her as he worked.
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