There was something inexpressibly
beautiful about his attitude toward a child.
Gila saw it now and wondered. What unexpected trait was this that sat
upon the young man like a crown? Here, indeed, was a man who was worth
cultivating, not merely for the caprice of the moment. There was
something in his face and attitude now that commanded her respect and
admiration; something that drew her as she had not been drawn before.
She would win him now for his own sake, not just to show how she could
charm away his morbid fancies.
She continued to stare at the young man with eyes that saw new things in
him, while Courtland sat petting the child and telling him a story. He
paid no further attention to her.
When Gila set her heart upon a thing she had always had it. This had
been her father's method of bringing her up. Her mother was too busy
with her clubs and her social functions to see the harm. And now Gila
suddenly became aware that she was setting her heart upon this young
man. The eternal feminine in her that was almost choked with selfishness
was crying out for a man like this one to comfort and pet her the way he
was comforting and petting her little brother. That he had not yielded
too easily to her charms made him all the more desirable. The
interruption had come so suddenly that she couldn't even be sure he had
been about to take her hands in his when he flung them from him. He had
sprung from the couch almost as if he had been under orders.
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