Presently he resumed: “I believe I must be in love. Enjoy. . A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. Got detained in the City, and——” Then he met the fixed, breathless gaze of those wonderful eyes from the other side of the table, and he, too, broke off in the middle of his sentence. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. Probably hadn't. “I should like to understand you,” he said.
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