A dreamy sense of content crept over him. "Don't weep, my love," replied the lady, straining him still more closely to her. Why hadn't he admitted that he recognized the photograph? What instinct had impelled him swiftly to assume his Oriental mask? "Why?" asked O'Higgins. He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him. ‘Well?’ she said. Think, ma’am. I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl. The small Diedermayer clan was a captive audience. Would you mind?" She wanted another kiss, but she did not know how to go about it; so she satisfied the hunger by pressing his hands to her thundering heart.
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