“How is it that one woman is…enough…for three men?”“I don’t know.”“She must be a very talented courtesan.”“Callie.”“Well, that was what she was. Wasn’t it?”“Yes.”“How very fascinating!” She smiled brightly. “I’ve never met a courtesan, you know.”“I could have surmised as such.”“She looked just as I imagined they did! Well, she was rather prettier.”Ralston’s eyes darted around the room as though he was looking for the quickest escape route.“Callie. Wouldn’t you rather gamble than talk about courtesans?”

“Before I merely daydreamed about Ralston. Now I find myself actually with him. Actually talking to him. Actually discovering the real Ralston. He is no longer a creature I invented. He is flesh and blood and…now I can’t help wondering…” She trailed off, unwilling to say what she was thinking. What if he were mine?She did not have to say the words aloud; Anne heard them anyway. When Callie opened her eyes and met Anne’s gaze in the looking glass, she saw Anne’s response there. Ralston is not for you, Callie.“I know, Anne,” Callie said quietly, as much to remind herself as to reassure her friend.”

“She had the underwear of a thirteen-year-old, as well, he thought. He glanced back at her. But the shoes of a courtesan.”

“Whore or courtesan, she put on a great little show.”

“She smiled at him. “How did you know just what I’d want to see?”“How could I not?” he said. “When I think of you, and you are not there, I see you in my mind’s eye always with a book in your hand.” He looked away from her as he said it, but not before she caught the slight flush on his cheekbones. He was so pale, he could never hide even the least blush, she thought — and was surprised how affectionate the thought was.”

“Altogether, Olympia thinks the sight of herself satisfactory, but not beautiful: a smile is missing, a certain light about the eyes. For how very different a woman will look when she has happiness, Olympia knows, when her beauty emanates from a sense of well-being or from knowing herself to be greatly loved. Even a plain woman will attract the eye if she is happy, while the most elaborately coiffed and bejeweled woman in a room, if she cannot summon contentment, will seem to be merely decorative.”