No heart is free

Weapons of love. Now Jean knew that she loved him, overwhelmingly and with every fiber of her being. She had loved him from the first second of their meeting--loved him when she had first trusted him, when she had known she must do whatever he wished, however, crazy or strange it might seem. Suddenly she was panic-stricken. "What shall I do when he leaves me?" she cried, feeling a loneliness size had never known, not even in her darkest misery in Scotland. To him, she was only the means to an end, a weapon he could ruthlessly use in his battle for another woman! "Suppose," came the whisper in her heart, "I tried to capture him for myself?"