[Sim-icq-announce] Aying, as he took up his hat: "Don't you fr

[Holecz <che...@ze...>]

Hardly conscious of the direction she was taking. What she wanted was
solitude, and the time to put some order into her thoughts; and she
hoped to steal into her room without meeting her mother. Through her
thick veil the clusters of lights in the Spragg drawing-room dilated and
flowed together in a yellow blur, from which, as she entered, a figure
detached itself; and with a start of annoyance she saw Ralph Marvell
rise from the perusal of the "fiction number" of a magazine which had
replaced "The Hound of the Baskervilles" on the onyx table. "Yes; you
told me not to come--and here I am." He lifted her hand to his lips as
his eyes tried to find hers through the veil. She drew back with a
nervous gesture. "I told you I'd be awfully late." "I know--trying on!
And you're horribly tired, and wishing with all your might I wasn't
here." "I'm not so sure I'm not!" she rejoined, trying to hide her
vexation in a smile. "What a tragic little voice! You really are done
up. I couldn't help dropping in for a minute; but of course if you say
so I'll be off." She was removing her long gloves and he took her hands
and drew her close. "Only take off your veil, and let me see you." A
quiver of resistance ran through her: he felt it and dropped her hands.
"Please don't tease. I never could bear it," she stammered, drawing
away. "Till to-morrow, then; that is, if the dress-makers permit." She
forced a laugh. "If I showed myself now you might not come back
to-morrow. I look perfectly hideous--it was so hot and they kept me so
long." "All to make yourself more beautiful for a man who's blind with
your beauty already?" The words made her smile, and moving nearer she
bent her head and stood still while he undid her veil. As he put it back
their lips met, and his look o