But the kiss had a place now in her life, and the place, like the kiss itself, endured.
Von Ibn, in his room at the hotel, paused over his manuscript score, laid down his pen and closed his eyes.
“Elle sera à moi!” he murmured, and smiled.
For him also the kiss was enduring.
Chapter Thirteen
JACK was expected on the morrow, and on the day after the start for Genoa was to be made.
Under these cheerful circumstances Von Ibn came to call at the pension, and Amelia tapped at Rosina’s door to announce to the “gnädige Frau” that “der Herr von Ibn ist im Salon.”
Rosina was dressed for dinner and when her visitor saw her gown with its long trailing skirt his face fell.
“We go to walk, yes?” he said, in a doubtful tone. She looked from the window out upon the rainy view.