He could only see the beautifully dressed hair, the clean-cut profile.

She continued to look into the fire, conscious of the hand close to her shoulder.
"No, my friend," she repeated.

"We know each other too well for that.

It would never do." "But when I tell you that I love you," he said quietly, with his voice well in control.
"I did not know that the word was in your vocabulary--you, a diplomat." "And a man--you put the word there--Etta." The hand-screen was raised for a moment in objection--presumably to the Christian name of which he had made use.
He waited; passivity was one of his strong points.

It had frightened men before this.
Then, with a graceful movement, she swung suddenly round in her chair, looking up at him.