London (England) -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Women -- Fiction
At length she walked away, aimless. Felix did not notice her departure.
She thought it almost certain that Lord Mackworth would be somewhere in
the rooms; she desired above everything to avoid the danger incident to
meeting him face to face; but she walked away. All the tables were the
same as the table at which she had left Felix--crowded, entranced,
self-concentrated and perfectly unintelligible; and at every table the
croupier was continually dropping counters into a little hole, and
tearing up tickets and throwing the fragments behind him on to the
crimson carpet. The sole difference between the tables was that some
held more banknotes than others. The heaps of blue thousand-franc notes
piled about one table caused Lilian to halt and gaze.
"Some ready there!" said a very young man to a fierce old woman.
"Ah! But you should have seen it in the days of gold plaques before the
war. You could call a hundred-franc gold piece ’ready,’ then, if you
like." The old woman sighed grimly.
Lilian passed on under their combined stare. She glimpsed herself in
mirrors, as once she used to glimpse herself in the shop windows of Bond
Street, and was satisfied with the vision. Her walk was as remarkable
as her beauty. Yes, she knew how to put her feet on the ground and how
to make her body float smoothly and evenly above the moving limbs. Her
spirit rose as she began to suspect that no woman in the rooms was
getting more notice than herself. Fancy Felix being absorbed in his
gambling! She had forgotten Lord Mackworth; she had decided that he was
not in the rooms; and then suddenly, sprung from nothingness like a
ghost, he stood in her path between the wall and the end of a table.
She was disposed to retreat; besides, his attention was fixed on the
table and she might get by him unperceived. But just as she approached
he turned. Although she might have ignored him, and in the
circumstances was indeed entitled to do so, she did not because she
could not. She blushed, only slightly, acknowledged their acquaintance
with a faint smile, then stopped, but did not advance her hand to meet
his.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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