Promise me. But her mind was ruffled, and its mirror-like surface of satisfaction was not easily restored. She counted three on the way to the train and four more on the crowded car that would have gladly taken him to bed with not so much as a word. She would not sleep for fear of losing a moment of that sense of his proximity. Then it dawned. The ticket line filtered slowly into the glass doors, growing louder and more boisterous by the minute. When he was up and about, the idea of flight would return. Eric Vorsack still toiled at work. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. They stood for a moment in the passage and listened. . " "Risk, or no risk, I shall go," replied Jack. She tried to scream, \"I'm coming to you, Mama!\" But no sound would come from her mouth. It was there in the breast pocket, stiff and legal looking.
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