“And yet you still live, Butterfly. . ’ Melusine’s heart leapt, and as swiftly clattered into dead stillness as the implication of the second name hit home. Righting, however, instantly afterwards, she scudded with the greatest rapidity over the boiling waves, to whose mercy she was now entirely abandoned. Yet here you are, and at precisely the right moment, too. I was—I was a corespondent. All I can say is, it's well meant; and I may add, I'd have made it five minutes ago, if you'd given me the opportunity. Just as he had told Gerald would be the case, there was nothing of interest to hear, especially as he had met the girl in London only last night. “It is rather odd,” he said, “but I always thought that your name was Annabel and hers Anna.
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