A pair of startled blue eyes looked up into his. She sat perfectly still, however. She lunged without warning again, and Gosse, just catching her blade on his own, was obliged to retreat backwards up the little stair. He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him. The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. “Flesh and flowers are all alike to me. . Now what I want you to feel is this.
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