In her little sitting-room she turned on the electric light and looked around half fearfully. There was enough contra-light to render her ethereal. The little spot of rouge was vivid enough now by reason of this new pallor, which seemed to draw the colour even from her lips. I want to give you time to think. Melusine came close again, and reached up a finger tentatively to the face depicted there. Sheppard now directed her steps. And mind, your life,—more than your life—hangs upon your choice. I saw them both. "I never wear false whiskers," went on O'Higgins.
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