I call myself a man of the world, a man of many experiences, but I never knew what love meant—until I met your sister. These petals! I’ve been wanting to cry all the evening, cry here on your shoulder for my petals. My dear—I can call you that here, anyhow—I know that. Recovering herself, Melusine tucked the weapons out of sight, down into the deep holsters hidden under the petticoat of her riding habit, and went back into the house where Martha awaited her in some impatience. The Old Mint. Melusine felt the calloused hand grasp around hers.
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