In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. ” They were eating quails when they returned to the topic of love. . “I wonder which of us is right,” she said. You must remember, you've just begun to read; you haven't any comparisons. I don't believe his name is Taber. . . Utter silence answered him. ’ She inclined her head, looking up at him through her lashes, and passing a tongue lightly over her lips. ‘You are not the only one to seek them out,’ he said. Show him no quarter, Poll.
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