CHAPTER 16HE PLACED AN ARM about her shoulders and pulled her gently against him. Presently her sobbing stopped. Silently he handed her a clean handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket. She wiped her eyes, sighed brokenly, and sat twisting the handkerchief with her fingers. She made no move to escape his circling arm. He held her a little tighter.
“I—I am sorry,” she said. “I have not cried in a long time.”
“Cry if you want to.” His cheek was against the top of her small head. Her hair held a faint flower fragrance.
“Rack,” she said in a low voice, “there is something I must tell you.”
“Yes?” He stiffened a little, suddenly alert. “What is it?”
“After what you have done for me, you have a right to know. I—I could not tell you before.” She paused, and then said hesitantly, “Yo
