"It's a little late to think of them now. And what do they, or the rest
of the whole world, signify to us?" Smiling confidently he again
approached her with outstretched arms, but she swiftly evaded him, and
snatched up a pearl-handled stiletto which she had been utilizing as a
paper cutter. At his grim smile of contempt she flung it down on the
table and laid her hand on the call bell. He gave a shrug and dropped
his arms.
"That is unnecessary," he said quietly. "Your pitiful fear is an
efficient safeguard against any further importunity. Courage is an
indispensable quantity in the composition of a wolf. I have been
ludicrously mistaken. May I hope that you will forgive and forget?"
"There is nothing to forgive, but neither of us must forget, again. Not
ever again!" She was struggling for composure, her hard-clenched hand
pressed against her heart. "I never dreamed--"
He laughed harshly. "You never dreamed that in the veins of men there
could be red, as well as white corpuscles? Were there nothing but
emasculates among your circle of acquaintance in the vaunted 'Four
Hundred'?"
Wincing at his coarseness as though it had been a blow, she went over
and leaned against the casement of the window, looking silently out at
the stars. After a time he took up his sombrero and moved toward the
door, pausing at the threshold to courteously bid her good night. At the
sound of his voice she turned quickly.
"Wait!" She motioned to an easy chair. "Sit down, please. There is
something which in justice to us both, must be said before you go." He
took the seat indicated and she turned again to the window. For quite a
time she stared mutely into the night, the man waiting in patient
silence. When she finally spoke it was in a tone so low that he had to
bend forward to catch the words.
"You were right when you said that I was afraid; but it is not
convention that has made me a coward. It is of myself that I am afraid,
the new, strange self that has evolved since I came here, a year ago,
filled with the pitiful conceit that I knew life--and men--thoroughly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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