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Drowning, her brain dizzy, Melusine clung to the source of the flooding warmth, her hands, no longer forcibly held, moving without will about the firm back. “Why, what is the matter with you? What do you mean?” Annabel laughed scornfully. There came to Spurlock the recurrence of the grim resolution of what he had set out to do: that comradeship was all he might ever give this exquisite creature; for she was exquisite, and in a way she dominated this picture of sea and sky and sail. Free! All the fine ecstasy, without the numbing terror. ’ ‘Eh?’ Almost Melusine betrayed herself at his startled look.
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