“If only her sister is half as pretty, no wonder that she has set the Parisians talking. I have not found the secret way into the house, for instance. ‘But I ain’t been idle, miss, I swear it. Let me recommend a glass of wine. ” Anna shook hands with Brendon—a young man also, but older and more selfpossessed than Sydney Courtlaw. But in his presence a wall of diffidence and timidity encompassed her. You might even tire of me by then, you know. “What’s going on with you?” John asked inquisitively, looking down at her abdomen. Perhaps her odd beauty—and that too was natural—stirred these thoughts into being. Do have some tea, won’t you? If you must, go then. His fingers closed upon her hand.
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