Brendon told him the name of a distant restaurant and sprang in by her side. If so I shall have to leave. Her fingers rested upon his. He waited the pleasure of Monsieur. They’re just a joyous softening of the outline—more beautiful than perfection. 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. "If any one's to blame, it's me.
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