Looking Back [antikvár]

Chapter One H ello, Amy.' Soaked to the skin, the stranger I 11 I i i -Stood at the door. Beneath the trilby hat his j i' face was oddly familiar to her. ! ' He smiled, but it was a nervous, guilty smile. For » i almost an hour after the fierce summer downpour he j , j had paced the streets outside, afraid to come in . . . ' afraid not to. .'t 'It's been a long time,' he said, his steady gaze giving nothing away. 'I'm not sure you'll even remember me.' But he remembered her. 'Nineteen years,' he ' murmured fondly, 'and I'd still know you anywhere.' p At thirty-nine years of age, Amy Tattersall was : j' still a good-looking woman, he thought admiringly, i ' with the same thick, chestnut-coloured hair and pretty brown eyes. There was a time when those p; eyes had looked at him with love, but now they 1 ' I showed only bewilderment. , •i -v.;' I i