She let out a delighted laugh. "Fool!" he cried, "do you think I wouldn't have secured you before this if I hadn't some motive for my forbearance?" "And that motive is fear," replied Jack contemptuously. “Or I know another one who wears cologne. I'll cable to-night, and in a few days we'll have some news. Things hung for a moment in an awkward silence. She inhaled a deep breath of air—London air. No more did she offer her forehead for the good-night kiss. ” 281 282 About the Author Kimberly Steele grew up in a suburb of Chicago, Illinois and currently resides in Naperville, Illinois. To tell you the truth, he spoke to me very seriously upon the subject. Having made a tolerably good meal upon the loaf, overcome by fatigue, Jack turned into a barn in Stoke Newington, and slept till late in the day, when he awakened much refreshed. While I have been pestering you, have you heard it? At least, you heard the first act. I am a little afraid.
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