“Who’s been telling you that sort of nonsense about love?” he asked. “Love is either there or it isn’t. From the first moment I saw you I knew I was in love. It’s hopeless, it’s insane, but there it is. I love you!”
He picked up her hand as he spoke and turning it over kissed her palm. Then before she could recover from her surprise at his sudden seriousness, Lord Buckleigh had gone from the room and she heard him singing as he went down the passage.
Her smile was tender as she fitted a fresh piece of paper into her typewriter.
Even if he could afford to keep her, she decided, she would not want to marry him. At the same time, she liked him – liked the gay irresponsibility about him, his boyish frankness, the aura of almost perennial good humour that seemed to exude from first thing in
