“Did you call me an Amazon?” Virginia asked still smiling.
“Before I saw you, yes—”
“And now?”
“Now, I’ve a new grudge against Waldron for using first an expression on which I could improve—”
“What’s that?” she asked, puzzled.
“He called you ‘our Joan of Arc’—”
“And you could improve on that?”
“Yes—you’re Joan of Arc without the cold touch of sainthood. You’re warm and real and human and still the leader—”
She lifted a pair of serious eyes quickly to his and saw that he was in dead earnest. There was no fencing or banter. He meant it. A little smile of triumph played about the corners of her mouth.
She held his gaze in silence and then spoke slowly.