’ ‘You mean monsieur le baron, the General Charvill, my grandfather?’ Melusine laid aside on the table the letter she had been studying and turned so that the frame of her nun’s wimple no longer obscured her view. “But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?” She rose to her feet. The ball passed over his head, and lodged in the ceiling. To be complete, my vengeance must be tardy. “I suppose Paris is very, very distracting. One nail drives out another, it's true; but the worst nail you can employ is a coffin-nail. ’ He grimaced. He was walking listlessly along, well-dressed, debonnair, good-looking. I decided to go in and wait. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe.
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