She even thought that perhaps she might come to love him, in spite of that faint indefinable flavor of absurdity that pervaded his courtly bearing. "That's for Winifred," vociferated the Amazon, bringing the cudgel heavily upon his shoulder. "All right," replied Sheppard, with affected indifference. She's too pretty and unusual. What passed between them I cannot think—I dare not. “Sydney is quite right, Miss Pellissier,” he said. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat.
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