"After all," said the Greek, after a silence which said more than
words, "it is the consciousness of your own integrity which must
influence you; not what others think of you. It is not as if your
husband thought better of you than you really are."
"And you believe that I--" Laodice began and stopped, bewildered.
Amaryllis, smiling, moved toward the inner corridor of her house. At
the threshold of the arch she called back: "Please yourself, my friend," and was gone.
Laodice was, by this time, stunned and intensely repelled. The hand on
which Amaryllis had laid hers in passing tingled under the touch.
Unconsciously she shook off the sensation of contact. The whole clear
white interior of the hall became instantly unclean. Her standards of
right and wrong were shaken; the wholesale assaults on her ideals left
her shocked and unconfident. She felt the panic that all innocent
women feel when suddenly aroused to the unfitness of their
surroundings.
When she turned to hurry to her room, a flood of scarlet rushed into
her cheeks and she shrank back, shaken with surprise and delight.
Before her stood a man, pale and thin, with his eyes upon her.