“I can get you,” Mr. "Impossible!" echoed Wild, with a fearful imprecation. The open windows were above them now and, unless the intruder were to lean out, they could not possibly be seen. ‘Can’t you see he is not a gentleman with whom one can argue?’ ‘You think so?’ Melusine said dangerously, and her eyes flashed as she swept about again and confronted her grandfather once more. She pulled her veil down, and he knew that silence was best. Mercifully, John had been sick for two of the three days of Thanksgiving week, giving her reprieve from both his presence and the machinations of Katy Pfister, who was always less active on days when he was not around. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. Her back stiffened. Presently. "If I escape, I will reward you.
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