I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. The signs of tears had all gone, but some subtle change seemed to have stolen into her face. "It is the fiend!" she exclaimed, recoiling. Gerald’s chest tightened. " "For whom, Sir?" inquired Charcam. It warms me, and lights me, and fills my world with flowers. The pouting cherry lips were slightly parted and the very faintest of panting breaths, together with the quick rise and fall of an alluring bosom, betrayed her fear. As the Wastrel rushed, Spurlock sidestepped, swept the ball into his hand, set himself and threw it.
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