" CHAPTER IX. 167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard. The eyes, too, though large and bright, and shaded by long lashes, seemed to betoken, as hazel eyes generally do in men, a faithless and uncertain disposition. Upon what this instinct was based she could not say; she was conscious only of its insistence. Right now my heart is occupied. Her mouth was once more covered as they left the second floor guest saloon and headed for the back stairs.
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