The day had become suddenly overcast. "But we must be getting along if we are to lunch in the tower of the water-clock. We have played at a little mild lovemaking again. ‘Only you made me lose my temper, and—’ ‘I made you do so? Pah!’ Gerald at last succeeded in ripping the handkerchief from her grasp, and swiftly held it to her neck, oblivious to her now bloodied fingers clawing at his hand. He was conscious of a quickening of his heartbeat and the familiar rise of adrenalin that sent his senses soaring in anticipation. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. Your second turn is not over, is it?” She laughed a little hardly.
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