London (England) -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Women -- Fiction
As he was leaving he said abruptly: "Do you know, I imagine I’ve seen
you before--somewhere."
"I don’t think so." She did not quite like this remark of his. It
seemed to her to be a commonplace device for prolonging the interview;
it shook her faith in his probity.
But he insisted, nodding his head.
"Yes. In Bond Street. I remember you were wearing an exceedingly
pretty hat, with some yellow flowers in it."
She was dumbfounded, for she did possess a pretty hat with yellow
flowers in it. She had done him an injustice. Fancy him noticing her,
admiring, remembering! It was incredible. She must have made a
considerable impression on him. She smiled her repentance for having
doubted his probity even for a moment.
"You must have a very good memory," she said, in her gaze an exquisite
admission of his rightness.
"Oh! I have!"
They shook hands. In holding out her hand she drew back her body. She
had absurdly hoped that he would offer to shake hands, not really
expecting him to do so. He departed with unimpeachable correctness and
composure. What nice discretion he had shown in not referring earlier
to the fact that her face was not unknown to him! Most men would have
contrived to work it in at the very beginning of the conversation. But
he had actually gone away, the first time, without mentioning it.
Lilian was left in such a state of exaltation that she could not
immediately start to work. She was ecstatically inspired with a
resolution, far transcending all previous yearnings of a similar nature,
to fulfil herself, to be herself utterly, to bring her gifts to fruition
despite all obstacles and all impossibilities. It was not that she
desired to please Lord Mackworth (though she passionately desired to
please him), nor to achieve luxury and costliness and elegance and a
highly refined way of life. These things, however important and
delectable, were merely the necessary incidentals to the supreme end of
exploiting her beauty, charm and benevolence so that in old age she
would not have to say, "I might have been."
V
The Devotee
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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