They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. White——” “No more,” Sydney Courtlaw begged, laughingly. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. Manning would on no account do, though he was tall and dark and handsome and kind, and thirty-five and adequately prosperous, and all that a husband should be. Guiltily, she felt very little for him, and yet she wondered what he would be like. Besides, Gerald would not for the world have passed up the chance of a little excitement.
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