“And what was that dreadful confession you had to make?” he was saying. "What a wonderful colour!" she exclaimed. ‘But, Gérard—’ ‘Don’t start arguing,’ he said in a tone that brooked no defiance. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. And I heard ‘Alcide’ sing, and that little dance she did. But there was only Gosse, still struggling with the picture, looking dazedly towards Melusine and the lad he had shot, then away towards the sounds of pursuit, and back again.
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