After he had begun to haunt my studio Miss Saunt quite gave it up, and
I finally learned that she accused me of conspiring with him to put
pressure on her to marry him. She didn’t know I would take it that way;
else she wouldn’t have brought him to see me. It was in her view a part
of the conspiracy; that to show him a kindness I asked him at last to
sit to me. I daresay moreover she was disgusted to hear that I had ended
by attempting almost as many sketches of his beauty as I had attempted
of hers. What was the value of tributes to beauty by a hand that
luxuriated in ugliness? My relation to poor Dawling’s want of modelling
was simple enough. I was really digging in that sandy desert for the
buried treasure of his soul.
VI
It befell at this period, just before Christmas, that on my having gone
under pressure of the season into a great shop to buy a toy or two,
my eye, fleeing from superfluity, lighted at a distance on the bright
concretion of Flora Saunt, an exhibitability that held its own even
against the most plausible pinkness of the most developed dolls. A huge
quarter of the place, the biggest bazaar “on earth,” was peopled with
these and other effigies and fantasies, as well as with purchasers and
vendors, haggard alike in the blaze of the gas with hesitations. I was
just about to appeal to Flora to avert that stage of my errand when I
saw that she was accompanied by a gentleman whose identity,'though more
than a year had elapsed, came back to me from the Folkestone cliff.’ It
had been associated in that scene with showy knickerbockers; at
present it overflowed more splendidly into a fur-trimmed overcoat. Lord
Iffield’s presence made me waver an instant before crossing over; and
during that instant Flora, blank and undistinguishing, as if she too
were after all weary of alternatives, looked straight across at me. I
was on the point of raising my hat to her when I observed that her face
gave no sign. I was exactly in the line of her vision, but she either
didn’t see me or didn’t recognise me, or else had a reason to pretend
she didn’t. Was her reason that I had displeased her and that she wished
to punish me? I had always thought it one of her merits that she wasn’t
vindictive. She at any rate simply looked away; and at this moment one
of the shop-girls, who had apparently gone off in search of it, bustled
up to her with a small mechanical toy. It so happened that I followed
closely what then took place, afterwards recognising that I had been led
to do so, led even through the crowd to press nearer for the purpose, by
an impression of which in the act I was not fully conscious.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account