T. S. Arthur,
Danger; Or, Wounded in the House of a Friend
“ Glad to see you looking so well, Miss Birtwell." Blanche bowed with cold politeness, drawing a little back as she did so, and tightening her hold on Whitford's arm. Lovering fixed his eyes on the young lady with an admiring glance, gazing into her face so intently that her color heightened. She turned partly away, an expression of annoyance on her countenance, drawing more firmly on the arm of her companion as she did so, and taking a step toward the door. But Whitford was no longer passive to her will. ”
