His heart was choking
him with its swift and excited beating. Even as he introduced her to
Blackton the voice kept crying in his brain that she had expected to find
some one in this crowd whom she knew. For a space it was as if the Joanne
whom he had known had slipped away from him. She had told him about the
grave, but this other she had kept from him. Something that was almost
anger surged up in him. His face bore marks of the strain as he watched her
greet Blackton. In an instant, it seemed to him, she had regained a part of
her composure. Blackton saw nothing but the haggard lines about her eyes
and the deep pallor in her face, which he ascribed to fatigue.
"You're tired, Miss Gray," he said. "It's a killing ride up from Miette
these days. If we can get through this mob we'll have supper within fifteen
minutes!"
With a word to Aldous he began worming his long, lean body ahead of them.
An instant Joanne's face was very close to Aldous', so close that he felt
her breath, and a tendril of her hair touched his lips. In that instant her
eyes looked into his steadily, and he felt rush over him a sudden shame.
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