Mere formality. His vision was becoming accustomed to the faint light now and her features were clearer. Recovering herself, Melusine tucked the weapons out of sight, down into the deep holsters hidden under the petticoat of her riding habit, and went back into the house where Martha awaited her in some impatience. The old woman told him she had no such article to dispose of, but recommended him to a neighbouring blacksmith. Through it all Spurlock maintained a gaiety which deceived them completely. She thought of the suitcase, the seventy-seven dollars for a Greyhound ticket that had expired. That’s probably true.
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