’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Froxfield frostily. ’ ‘A French ghost?’ ‘Well, it ain’t a rat this time, Major, I can promise you that,’ Pottiswick had rejoined, his tone affronted. “I would like to go home,” she cried, “to please her. ” “How?” “Well—a little clumsily. What a treat to see all the old tabbies taken at fault for once!’ ‘You are a dreadful child,’ scolded Mrs Sindlesham, with which Melusine could not but agree, despite the dimple rioting in her great-aunt’s cheek. Neither would she allow herself to feel guilty nor would she allow him to find a way into the house. Then, quite insensibly, her queenliness had declined. I'm about to ring for supper.
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