She doubted how she stood toward him and what the restrained gleam of his face might signify. With me behaving as if everything was infinitely matter-of-fact, what could he do? And just then Heaven sent old Manningtree—I didn’t tell you before of the fortunate intervention of Manningtree, did I? He was looking quite infernally distinguished, with a wide crimson ribbon across him—what IS a wide crimson ribbon? Some sort of knight, I suppose. I’m going to that stupid party at the Vorsack’s to get to the bottom of it. There he paused again, half turning his back and pretending to look for someone among the soldiers on the benches. The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child. Something forbade him to draw her toward him and seal the compact with a kiss. I will permit you to rescue me. I call myself a man of the world, a man of many experiences, but I never knew what love meant—until I met your sister. .
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