'Since I am willing to forgive you for losing your head just now,' she

said, 'it's for me to decide whether you may ever see me again, and if

so when, and where. I've been very good to you. Now I am going.' It seemed to him that she had grown all at once in strength and

individuality till there was nothing for him to do but to submit. This

was an illusion, no doubt; she was just what she had always been, and

what he had always judged her, a gifted young woman, rather inclined to

flirt and easily guided in any direction, whose exuberant animal

vitality might pass for strong character in the eyes of an

inexperienced innocent like Lushington, but could not deceive an old

hand like Logotheti for a moment. Nevertheless, when she had spoken her

last words and was leading the way out of the room, Logotheti felt a

little like a small boy who has had his ears boxed for being too

cheeky, which is a sensation not at all pleasant or natural to an old

hand.

As he took her down in the little lift, he vaguely wondered whether he

had ever thought of her till now except as an animated work of art;

comparable in beauty with his encaustic painting or his dearly loved

Aphrodite; worth more than either of them as a possible possession, as

life is worth more than stone, and endowed with a divine voice; but

having neither soul, intelligence, nor will to speak of, nor any

original power of ruling others, still less of resisting a systematic

and prolonged attack.

The change had come quickly. Logotheti thought of beautiful beings of

old, disguised as yielding, mortal women, who had visited the men they

loved on earth and had by and by revealed themselves as true and

puissant goddesses, moving in a sphere of rosy light, and speaking only

to command.

Logotheti took her down in the lift and they went back into the big

room where they had left Madame De Rosa. They found her looking out of

the window. Books did not interest her, nor pictures either, there was

no piano in the room and the maraschino was locked up. So there was

nothing to do but to look out of the window. As the two came in she

turned sharply to them, with her head on one side, as birds do, and her

intelligent little eyes sparkled. She was a good little woman herself,

and believed in heaven and salvation, but she had no particular belief

in man and none at all in woman. On the other hand, she had a very keen

scent for the truth in love affairs, and in Logotheti's subdued

expression she instantly detected sure signs of discomfiture, which

were fully confirmed by Margaret's serene and superior manner. Men

sometimes follow women into a room with such an air of submission that

one almost looks for the string by which they are led.




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