The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. "Now, then, Saint Giles!" interposed Sheppard, "are we to be kept here all night?" "Eh day!" exclaimed Sharples: "wot new-fledged bantam's this?" "One that wants to go to roost," replied Sheppard. He heard Melusine cry out, but his attention was all for the nick he had made in her neck. "There's Sharples," cried Quilt. "He just asked for his coat, which he wanted under his pillow.
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