As soon as he had read it, he let it fall from his grasp. "She's glorious!" He knew that he must hoodwink this keeneyed Scot, even as he must hoodwink everybody: publicly, the devoted husband; privately, the celibate. ‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve. "Beg pardon," he said, "but isn't smoking allowed in the dining room?" "It probably is," answered Prudence, "but that in no wise mitigates the odiousness of the procedure.
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