Her hormones were raging stupidly. He never seemed to take full advantage while they were in his mammoth automobile. Not one of them but bore the marks of having been engaged in a recent and severe conflict. CHAPTER XXVII. Do you know the story of Orpheus? He was a musician who followed his damned wife into Hell to bring her back? He was one of us, I believe. And behind— there was Paris, memories of amazing things, memories which made his cheeks burn and his heart beat quickly as he sat there waiting for her. Could it be him you mean?" "No. “I wonder,” she began, presently, “why I love you—and love you so much?.
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