” Her heart leaped within her as she caught that phrase. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. I did not care—no woman really cares—to play the beggar maid to your King Cophetua. ‘Well then, Melusine,’ he said calmly, ‘it seems as if we must get you your dowry willy-nilly. It is but a wild threat. The wound lay open for five seconds, and then closed neatly as if it had been stitched by invisible hands. “Nor am I now,” he answered.
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