don’t mind it,” he said obliquely. “What?” “The way you look at me.” His gaze was very intense suddenly, his eyes holding my own in their pale grey snare. “Everything you think and feel is in your eyes, you know. When you hated me, I could see it. When you didn’t, I could see that too.” His voice was horribly self-assured. “It’s rare. Most people try to hide what they truly feel. But not you, Jude Alcott.”
