“I—I am afraid I’m dreaming now.”
“No, you aren’t. You are broad awake, and I’m telling you the truth. I would not marry Calvin Stone if he was the last man left on earth. He is a low-lived gambler—and I despise him. He isn’t worth your little finger.”
David slipped from his chair and gained the settee, somehow, his knees knocking together.
“Vine, do you mean— Would I be a fool to—” Then his lips found hers.
At midnight David Trench stumbled drunkenly home, his head bumping the stars, while Lavinia took the two-year-old wedding dress from the cedar chest and planned to modernize its lines.