But that explains everything. His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. It’s obvious you have eyes for someone else. He sent me home. She closed her eyes as if asleep, her hands folded neatly on her abdomen. “It is about your sister, Lady Ferringhall. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. Dieu du ciel, but where was Gerald? On the move again, she found herself standing before one of the mirrors, gazing into her own countenance without seeing it. A new restlessness seemed to have stolen in upon her. Only in man is the male made the most important.
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