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Page 387

| Or would it be slow and heavy, his eyes vacant of hope? |

| "I must busy myself," Sasha whispered to herself. She went to the bed and fluffed up the pillows; their cases were torn and ugly. She smoothed down the mattress, which had no sheet on it and pulled the heavy blanket up over it. |

| She placed her hands to her cheeks and looked around the dismal room. There was a knock on it. Smiling, expecting to find Bianca and the baby there, Sasha rushed to the door and jerked it open. |

| She was taken aback when she found a very well-dressed man standing in the corridor, a valise tucked beneath his left arm. |

| "Sasha?" the man said, his voice distinguished. "Sasha Seymour?" |

| Sasha gazed into the man's dark eyes, her own filled with wonder. "Yes, I am Sasha," she murmured. "Why do you ask?" |

| "Ma'am, I have been trying to locate you for at least a month," the man said, clearing his throat irritably. "Word was sent to my hotel this morning that you had taken a room in thisin thisahem, place." He looked past her, over her shoulder, then back down at her. "May I?'' |

| Sasha stepped aside. "Oh, yes, please do come in," she said, watching his stiff stride as he stepped past her into the drab room. |

| "Reginald VanCleave at your service, ma'am," the man said, reaching out a white-gloved hand to Sasha. "It is my sincere pleasure to make your acquaintance." |

| Sasha noticed that his nose was twitching and she |

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