A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. "I am not," replied Thames; "but I insist upon your taking it back at once. If my conjectures are right, this boy would stay there indefinitely. Certainly, we—that is Jarvis and I— knew nothing of it until after Mary’s death. He swore that I was his wife, that chance had given me to him at last. She confronted him with his own double-standard. Melusine sighed with relief at being alone at last and free to resume her search among the portraits.
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