She found herself longing for home-not just for the hotel but for New York and all the real novels that she could lose herself in there.

Diana knew it wouldn't be right, but then she told herself that things only looked wrong when there was someone to see you.

It seemed to her as though everything that was good and true had been blasted out of the world. All those things had been crushed destroyed made to disappear.

She was trying to sound tough and impatient, but she knew that vulnerable desire to be wooed was still brimming in her tone.

She had had no idea what it would do to her seeing him in a suit.

What was it about that short creature with her wild hair and spurious air of purity and why would anyone much less two men love her and to such disastrous ends.

The value of secrets is ever fluctuating although ladies who have been in society for a long time learn that a secret kept can be worth more than a secret told.