" With no little effort—for the right words had a way of tumbling back out of reach—he marshalled his phrases, and as he uttered them, closed his eyes to lessen the possibility of a break. . She gulped for air merely, for it had been difficult to breathe with his hand almost cutting off the supply to her lungs. Then instinct took over. But we've got to cook up some kind of a story to protect her. He took his seat at the table, but leaned forward to address her. . “We’ll go together. ‘Perhaps I could indeed rescue you if only you would confide in me.
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