He inspected the formidable array of rifles and at length walked over to the register. “It’s like Troy!” said a voice of rapture. The atmosphere seemed heavy with the odour of drugs. "That's false!" cried Mrs. Swiftly he looked back to Melusine and found she had whisked to the window, dragging a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve and hastily blowing her nose. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous.
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