"Oh, blessed Imp!"
"And now where is he?" she demanded.
"Lisbeth, I don't know."
"You don't know! Then why are you here?"
For answer I held out the letter I had found, and watched while she read the words I could not believe.
Her hat was off, and the moon made wonderful lights in the coils of her black hair. She was wearing an indoor gown of some thin material that clung, boldly revealing the gracious lines of her supple figure, and in the magic of the moon she seemed some young goddess of the woods—tall and fair and strong, yet infinitely womanly.
Now as she finished reading she turned suddenly away, yet not before I had seen the tell-tale colour glowing in her cheeks—a slow wave which surged over her from brow to chin, and chin to the round, white column of her throat.
And she said, "O Dick, I want you so!" I read aloud.
"Oh," Lisbeth murmured.
"Lisbeth, is it true?"