He leaned forward, and looked into the eyes of the woman he loved, and it seemed to him that she sang back to him with a sudden note of something like passion breaking here and there through the gay mocking words which flowed with such effortless and seductive music from her lips. “You ARE a female thing at bottom,” he admitted. How clever she was, to fool everybody so easily! Not yet had any one suspected the truth: that she was, in a certain worldly sense, only four weeks old, that her every act had been written down on paper beforehand, and that her success lay in rigidly observing the rules which she herself had drafted to govern her conduct. “Why are you so distant? Why all the mystery? What are you, a narc? Double-oh-seven or something?” She steeled herself, refusing to react. But how close? She glanced about at the shrouded furnishings for possible cover. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. Spurlock has gone. ’ ‘A dagger, is it then?’ The girl froze. I want to be with you. What does it matter? It is here, and it is here to stay.
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