Something in his eyes brought a faint flush to her cheek.

For a second or two she met his gaze steadily and then her eyes fell, but not before he had caught the shy, wondering expression that suddenly filled them.

He experienced an almost uncontrollable desire to lay his clumsy hand upon the soft, smooth brown hair.

Through his mind flashed a queer rush of comparison.

He recalled the dark, knowing eyes of the Russian dancer, mysterious and seductive,--man-reading eyes from which nothing was concealed,--and contrasted them with the clear, honest, blue-grey orbs that still could fall in sweet confusion.