"Why the devil does that foolish girl, who pretends to wish to speak to me, not come into my study? and why on earth does she want to speak to me at a...l?"He was turning this thought over in his brain for the twentieth time, when the door opened and Eugenie appeared, attired in a figured black satin dress, her hair dressed and gloves on, as if she were going to the Italian Opera. "Well, Eugenie, what is it you want with me? and why in this solemn drawing-room when the study is so comfortable?" I. I couldn't stare anymore. I was on the verge of thinking myself into a bad mood, so I looked away. I grabbed my purse and made my way back to my seat at the bar. Mike, the bartender, sat a cocktail down in front of me and winked. I sipped on it for awhile, watching a volleyball match on beach in front of me. Suddenly, I felt that familiar pull. That intense feeling of when someone is staring at you, and you subconsciously look there way because you can literally feel their gaze upon you. I. More

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