It seemed to imply that he loved her in the swift,
ardent way of youth.
"Are you sure you want it?"
The lawyer appreciated her soft, warm allurement, the appeal of
sex with which she was so prodigally endowed. His breath came a
little faster.
"He won't be happy till he gets it."
Her faint laughter rippled out. "That's just the point, my friend.
Will he be happy then? And, which is more important to her, will
she?"
"That's what I'm here to see. I'm going to make you happy."
She laced her fingers behind her tawny head, not quite unaware
perhaps that the attitude set off the perfect modeling of her
soft, supple body.
"I don't doubt your good intentions, but it takes more than that
to make marriage happy when the contracting parties are not
Heaven-sent."
"But we are--we are."
Valencia shook her head. "Oh, no! There will be no rapturous song
of birds for us, none of that fine wantonness that doesn't stop to
count the cost. If we marry no doubt we'll have good reasons, but
not the very best one--that we can't help it."
He would not consent to that. "You're not speaking for me. The
birds sing, Valencia."
"Canaries in a cage," she mocked.
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