She caught at the idea. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. And the way he and the other men looked at her! The desire was plain on their faces, so many noblemen reduced to their simplest elements! They looked at her sideways, they looked at her backside, scanning her blue eyes and even looking right into her face. He had no wish to go foraging in Spurlock's trunk. I will no longer be a burthen to those upon whom I have no claim, but compassion. ‘Get the swords!’ ‘I’ll see to him. ” “Nor I,” she remarked tersely.
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