'That sounds odd,'
he remarked. 'Why couldn't you help it?'
'Women are accustomed to act on impulse,' she explained.
'Suppose we say that an impulse has directed my journey? And yet,
this is the last place in the world that I wish to find myself in.
Associations that I detest are connected with it in my mind.
If I had a will of my own, I would never see it again.
I hate Venice. As you see, however, I am here. When did you
meet with such an unreasonable woman before? Never, I am sure!'
She stopped, eyed him for a moment, and suddenly altered her tone.
'When is Miss Agnes Lockwood expected to be in Venice?'
she asked.
It was not easy to throw Francis off his balance,
but that extraordinary question did it. 'How the
devil did you know that Miss Lockwood was coming to Venice?' he exclaimed.
She laughed--a bitter mocking laugh. 'Say, I guessed it!'
Something in her tone, or perhaps something in the audacious
defiance of her eyes as they rested on him, roused the quick
temper that was in Francis Warwick. 'Lady Montbarry--!' he began.
'Stop there!' she interposed.
Pages:
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203