He kissed her fingers and grinned. O'Higgins did not confide in me. Her cheeks seemed to burn, her veins ran riot, and her heart was beating so fast that she was sure he must feel it through his scarlet coat. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. Tell me that you are not sorry to see me again. “My name,” Anna replied calmly, “is certainly Pellissier, but I repeat that I do not know you. ‘Unless he is himself a man of substance.
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