Every now and then something familiar in her tone, the poise of her head, the play of her eyes startled him. There was no sense in creating further difficulties for herself by arguing with the sergeant over her identity. ’ ‘That was not what I had in mind. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. She prevaricated. Her eyes were lit with smouldering passion. ’ ‘As far as I know it, ma’am. "No matter how much I tell of myself, I shall always keep something back.
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