Her eyes were wide and bright. Abruptly she got out of bed, smoothed her sheet and straightened her pillow and lay down, and fell almost instantly asleep. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. Melusine, intent upon preventing Gosse from securing the fallen weapon, paid no attention. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard. She held it down with the poker, looking nervously over her shoulder. All human food tasted equally dead and loathsome to her, whether it was prime steak or cheap hamburger. Wood.
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