‘Something for you, Lucy?’ he asked, interrupting a heated argument that had obviously been in progress for some little time before their arrival. A few more minutes, and she was safe. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. " "Don't worry about that. There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau. ’ ‘Have no fear. I want you to be my wife. “Tut, tut!” he said. If you were ten years younger, you'd have me wondering.
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