His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. You can’t look me in the eyes and say you don’t care for me. You are infatuated. But it is my fault. I have a hundred of them—mixed blood—on my island, and they are always rooking me. There was a gentle rustling of skirts. Gerald tried it. In the struggle the pistol went off, but without damage to either party. She could not see clearly. The resemblance was amazing! And some man—he was good-looking—was in the background. ‘You cannot read my mind at all, monsieur.
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