"'Sdeath! do you trifle with me, sirrah?" cried Rowland fiercely. The uncanny directness of those gray eyes, the absence of diffidence, the beauty of the face in profile (full, it seemed a little too broad to make for perfect beauty), the mellow voice that came full and free, without hesitance, all combined to mark her as the most unusual young woman he had ever met. Spurlock—for that's his real name—were married at high noon. "Always remember the fact. ’ She sipped at the liquid in her glass, but her eyes remained fixed, rather unnervingly, on Gerald. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief.
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