“Why are you so distant? Why all the mystery? What are you, a narc? Double-oh-seven or something?” She steeled herself, refusing to react. "Your business, Sir?" returned the other, stiffly. Where is your hat?’ ‘Parbleu, is this a way to rescue me?’ Melusine demanded, digging in her heels and wrenching her arm out of his hold. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. Ramage. " At the mention of the latter occurrence, a dark cloud gathered upon the stranger's brow.
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