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He made it brief. ‘Ask him. “Suppose you call me by my proper name,” she said quietly. ” “Lady Ferringhall—alone?” Ennison exclaimed. A fresh cool breeze blew in their faces. A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her. What she did not know, and what she was never to know, was that the divine fire was hers. Fancy, as they say hereabouts!" What had aroused this open-air monologue was a small tin sign in a window.
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