"At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. She wants that and needs it more than anything else in the world. Now, he had achieved them, and felt assured of success. “Why are you so distant? Why all the mystery? What are you, a narc? Double-oh-seven or something?” She steeled herself, refusing to react. He opened the door for her with a faint disagreeable smile. And I need not tell you that her hotel bill is running on the same as yours. Mr.
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