Читать книгу The Ball of Fire онлайн

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Gail turned to him in clear-eyed speculation.

“If I were a man, I’m afraid I’d be a business gambler,” she mused.

“I’ve no doubt you would,” he comfortably laughed. “However, my method is the safest. Ten years from now, Gail, I’ll have money that I made myself, and, in twenty, I’ll be shamelessly rich. Sounds good, doesn’t it?”

“You have enough money now, if that’s all you want,” she reminded him.

“No, I’m ambitious,” he insisted. “Not for myself, though. Gail, you know why I made this trip,” and he bent closer to her. His staccato voice softened and his eyes were very earnest. “I couldn’t stay away.” He clasped his other hand over hers, and drew closer.

“I told you you mustn’t, Howard,” she gently chided him, though she made no attempt to withdraw her hand. “I’m not ready yet to decide about things.”

He was a poor psychologist.

“All right,” he cheerfully assented, dropping the earnestness from his voice and from his eyes, but retaining her hand. His clasp was warm and strong and wholesome. “Mrs. King’s ball was rather a tame affair this year, though I may have been prejudiced because you weren’t there.”