Her fingers rested upon his. Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room. She felt his erection against her naked thigh. Do you know, I envy you. Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. His gaze remained steady on the old dame’s face, as he thought about it. "At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up. She heard their feet and muffled voices. “You have put all your life in my hands,” he declared.
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