In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. But Sheppard took no notice of the exclamation. He kissed her lightly on the lips. “Nor am I now,” he answered. It was not a hopeful looking group. By now the horses would be rested and he might go as swiftly back again. She slept in a bedroom clad in linens and skins, walked down hallways bedecked in the most gay and colorful frescos. “How ridiculous! Fancy you with all that money! For heaven’s sake, though, do not go about playing the Don Quixote like this. 8. She’s naïve, and yet uncannily shrewd at times, and you daren’t rely on anything she says.
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