Now you haven’t the ghost of one—not if you play the game fair. We aren't between him and heaven; he is between us and heaven. “I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you. She slid her cheek down the tweed sleeve of his coat. She read on and on, now thrilled by the swiftly moving drama, now enraptured by the tender passages of love. He flung aside all his talk of help and disinterested friendship as though it had never been even a disguise between them, as though from the first it was no more than a fancy dress they had put quite understandingly upon their relationship. Has he given you the tools?" "He has," replied Bess, producing the handkerchief. What he told the vicomte I was not privileged to learn.
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