It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. ” She took his hand, interrupting him. He understood. I should like to have had you forgive me. "But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil. ’ ‘I also said, if you remember, that I could not promise not to do so. She was new, unlike any other woman he had met in all his wide travel. Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her. “All right?” asked the man with the light eyelashes, suddenly appearing in the doorway.
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