His attitude toward her was purely intellectual, free of any sentimentality, utterly selfish. ‘I’m determined to find out all about you, mademoiselle. What can a girl do? Somewhere at this point Ann Veronica’s speculations were interrupted and turned aside by the approach of a horse and rider. I have a hundred of them—mixed blood—on my island, and they are always rooking me. A nod was exchanged. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. A sophisticated woman would have translated the tone as a caress. Twice she smiled, but not unkindly. I am glad or sorry according as it has brought you happiness. At any cost! Her brothers had it practically—at least they had it far more than it seemed likely she would unless she exerted herself with quite exceptional vigor.
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