’
Melusine spread her hands and sighed. One day it was gone. "Is this a season to speak on such a
subject?"
"Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of
my passion must plead my excuse. His features
were regular, and finely-formed; his complexion bright and blooming,—a little
shaded, however, by travel and exposure to the sun; and, with a praiseworthy
contempt for the universal and preposterous fashion then prevailing, of
substituting a peruke for the natural covering of the head, he allowed his own
dark-brown hair to fall over his shoulders in ringlets as luxuriant as those that
distinguished the court gallant in Charles the Second's days—a fashion, which
we do not despair of seeing revived in our own days. I said
intensity of perception. “Touch a hair on his head and you will insure that I
will never make love to you again. "You are," replied Kneebone.
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