“Come,” he said, “this is capital, capital. ’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. You have nothing more to fear from Wild. The white haze of poison clouded her eyes. He could talk to her as frankly as he could to a man, that she would not take offence at anything so long as it was in the form of explanation. “If you say so, Lucy. ‘—and I love your raven hair, and your bright blue eyes, and your very kissable lips—’ suiting the action to the words ‘—and I love the crazy way you speak English, and the way you curse at me.
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