She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. " "Not now—not now!" she returned, with a shudder. There was. His vision was becoming accustomed to the faint light now and her features were clearer. The doctor's lessons, perhaps delivered with too much serious emphasis, had destroyed that buoyant confidence in her ability to take care of herself. " "As you please, Sir," replied the tapstress, coolly. ‘Your master in?’ he demanded of the astonished footman, removing his cockaded hat and handing it over. linked image back linked image back MADEMOISELLE AT ARMS Elizabeth Bailey © 2011 by Elizabeth Bailey All rights reserved.
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