Montressor’s guests were. And so your Melusine is busy trying to prove that she is the real one. “Please stay,” she said briefly. I am glad or sorry according as it has brought you happiness. “But—your people!” she gasped. " "Tell it. Wood's," was the reply. ’ ‘But you say that I was born here,’ objected Melusine. The baby crawled towards them, seeking their blood. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. She thought gleefully of the dress she would get to wear for the Ball (Prom?) and could not wait to tell her foster family about how excited she was. She put her head out of the window.
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