CHAPTER 6SHE was struggling then in the narrow vestibule with her bags, trying to get them off the train, and he sprang forward to help her.
“Oh, thank you!” she said breathlessly. He lifted the suitcases off as the guard closed the door of the next carriage. She dropped her handbag and book, caught them up and stepped out onto the platform. “Thanks very much!”
“You—you aren’t going to Paris?”
He heard himself speak, his voice unnatural and curiously far away.
Mary Winship raised her head, her lips parted, an instant light springing into her eyes, blue-black under their extraordinary lashes, and dying as instantly as her cheeks flushed with sudden crimson.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I thought—for a minute you sounded like someone I—I knew a long time ago.”
She turned abruptl
