Annabel saw it, and suddenly changed her tone. "I was born in the South Seas and I am on my way to America, to an aunt. The fair boy in the audience who had waved was yet another suitor. At any rate, it would be good to hear him saying the sort of things he did—perhaps now she would grasp them better—with this world-shaking secret brandishing itself about inside her head within a yard of him. Melusine sighed with relief at being alone at last and free to resume her search among the portraits. Wait a moment. More importantly, she had her wits. About this time,—namely, in November, 1703— while young Trenchard was in Lancashire, and his sister in London, on a visit, he received a certain communication from his confidential servant, Davies, which, at once, destroyed his hopes. What could I do?’ ‘Anything but to bring him to me,’ Melusine threw at him. Impressed with this idea, he paused for a moment to listen.
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