Half-smiling, half-abstractedly, he took it, touched his own lips where hers had kissed; drained it.

A nod from Yolara and the maid refilled his goblet.
At once there was a swift transformation in the Irishman.

His abstraction vanished; the sternness fled; his eyes sparkled.

He leaned caressingly toward Yolara; whispered.

Her blue eyes flashed triumphantly; her chiming laughter rang.