” Anna shook hands with Brendon—a young man also, but older and more selfpossessed than Sydney Courtlaw. I have been the vicomte’s secretary, remember. I’m not mad that he has eyes for you instead of me, not mad at all. Most of them didn’t, anyhow. I must provide for my safety. You can pay me when we return. Her dainty shoes were soiled with dust and there was a great tear in her skirt. ” She wondered what to. She leaned forward and addressed him. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming.
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