’ She turned, her eyes narrowed. ” “You didn’t. ‘Did you sigh and flutter your eyelashes?’ ‘Certainly I did. Still he looked hale and hearty, and the country life he led had imparted a ruddier glow to his cheek. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls.
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