Drink this!” He poured out a glass of wine with a firm hand, and held it to her lips. His eyes were fixed upon the tablecloth. “Who are you?” She asked innocently. If Ann Veronica could have put words to that song they would have been, “Hot-blooded marriage or none!” but she was far too indistinct in this matter to frame any words at all. Austin, or any man of similar dimensions, would have found wholly impossible. He had set out to win her, and she had let him start. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future.
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