Mr Jarvis’s sister, that was. “She must have character. By instinct. It is quite a descent from the clouds, isn’t it?” “I will accept that,” Anna said, “as accounting for the surprise. And you tell me that the reason you are doing all this is so that you can marry an Englishman!’ Melusine giggled. Jane was a smoldering auburn-haired Irish beauty who seldom spoke to anyone. Her fancy dress, save for the green-gray stockings, the pseudo-Turkish slippers, and baggy silk trousered ends natural to a Corsair’s bride, was hidden in a large black-silk-hooded operacloak.
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