He declined supper, but took wine. In privacy he read and reread it a dozen times, and eventually destroyed it by fire. “I didn’t know you were half-Gypsy either. Let us stay the night here. His physical body was predictably paralyzed with shyness and fear of rejection, barely soothed with a series 51 of blatantly direct requests and compliments. He was ready to seed his legacy, and you were a pawn to be moved out of the way. It was clear it must be to-morrow. I’m sorry to hurt your feelings. Altogether different. And all this time perhaps you have been waiting, expecting to hear from me. CHAPTER I.
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