John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. McClintock did not exaggerate his ability to read faces. ” For a moment she was grave. Ramage!” she began, and his mouth sealed hers and his breath was mixed with her breath. ” He released her hand and talked in eager undertones against an auditory background of urgency and distress. Now you can understand why every minute is a torture to me. For a few minutes he kept them at bay. I’ll show it to you later. It was a precious thing, a beautiful cabochon—do you know what that is?” “What’s a cabochon?” “It’s a precious jewel that doesn’t have facets yet. ” He said. “Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed.
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