Where else could she go?’ ‘And there aren’t too many of them around,’ agreed Hilary on a gloomy note. She wondered why he was so distinctive, so unlike other men, and it never occurred to her for some time that this might be because she was falling in love with him. You will never be able to draw. She saw me, and, Lady Ferringhall, I shall never forget her look as long as I live. 192 Her skirt had ridden almost to her hips. “No, I must have had hope lurking somewhere too. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. Mr.
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