"You are quite right there.

I should be very jealous.

On that point I should 'find quarrel in a straw.'" Her cheeks had flushed a passionate red.

The eyes which she had inherited from her Spanish grandmother blazed above them.

She had become suddenly a woman of Andalusia and the South, moved by certain primitive forces in the blood.
Madeleine Verrier held out her hands, smiling.
"Come here, little wild cat.