Then the face of Mrs.
Goodwyn-Sandys looked anxiously out.
"Ah! you are there," she exclaimed with a little cry of relief.
"I have been so afraid. Have you got it?"
In the moonlight, and that pretty air of timidity on her face, she
was more ravishing than ever. Her voice called as a siren's; her
eyes drew Sam irresistibly. In a second all his fears, doubts,
scruples, were flung to the winds. He held up the portmanteau, and
advanced to the carriage door.
"Here it is. Geraldine--"
"Oh! thanks, thanks. How can I show my thanks?"
The perfume of her hair floated out upon the night with the music of
her tone until they both fairly intoxicated him.
He opened the door of the chaise.
"Where shall I stow it?" he asked.
"Here, opposite me; be very careful of it."
In the darkness he saw a huge bundle of rugs piled by Geraldine's
side.
"Where am I to sit?" he asked, as he bestowed the portmanteau
carefully.
He looked up into her face. The loveliest smile rested on him, for
one instant, from those incomparable eyes. She did not answer, but
held out her hand with the grace of a maiden confessing her first
passion. He seized the ungloved fingers, and kissed them.
"Geraldine!"
At this moment a low chuckle issued from the bundle of rugs.
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