“Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. . "Because she's a fire-opal, and to the world at large they bring bad luck. ’ ‘It is you who is absurd,’ countered Melusine, the spark returning to her eye. Wild's orders. On taxing his recollection, the whole circumstance rushed to mind with painful distinctness. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. Only identity, and a chance to be someone other than a nun. “Perhaps you will not object to answering one for me. Grudgingly he admired her.
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