His manner of speech is smooth and creamy, not the harsh, jarring type you might hear sometimes. Sitting there, I felt as if his words were wrapping t...emselves around me like a comforting cocoon. He had me mesmerized. I sat on the couch with one leg pulled up, my arms encircling it, the fingers of my hands laced together, facing him. Mark’s left hand reached out and touched my right cheek, then cradled it with his palm. His startling blue eyes looked deeply into my own dark brown ones. That one. He made some lame excuse about how they had fallen asleep on his bed. With an impish grin I stared at Duncan. Chuckling, I told him that breakfast would be ready in fifteen minutes. Duncan returned to his room and closed the door, after which I heard muted mumbles originating from within. Ten minutes later Duncan and Alf excited the spare bedroom, looking very sheepish. Breakfast was a silent affair, and shortly after, Alf left. Duncan attempted an explanation, but I cut him short. “Duncan, I. ‘I have,’ I told her, ‘and it gave me the impression of a vivacious, outgoing, exciting young woman, the life and soul of Cambridge social life, and very confident and forthright about her sexuality, a bit of a man-eater if anything.’ ‘I never said that.’ ‘Not in so many words,’ agreed Elspeth, ‘but the whole book carefully gave that impression. You knew your market. No one would have bought the book if you’d said you just sat in your room alone every night, reading.’ Laura tried to defend. He smiled and was gone. As for herself she was still shaking. She couldn't remember the last time when a man had engaged her in conversation and she wanted so much to be noticed."There were a few around the coffee urn", he said as he returned with a plastic plate of nibbles. Again she was confused for this man seemed to enjoy her company and his smile and conversation were very welcome, for she was very lonely and she knew she wasn't attractive. That had been a mill stone she had worn since the.