"I confess that it would not have
occurred to me to ask you to do anything or refrain from doing it for
her sake."
"Thank you. Perhaps you are right. One learns that one must protect
one's self. I shall not talk--neither will you. I know that. I was a
fool to let it out. The storm is over. I must ride home." He rose from
his seat and stood smiling. "It would smash up things nicely if the new
beauty's appearance in the great world were preceded by chatter of the
unseemly affection of some adorer of ill repute. Unfairly enough it is
always the woman who is hurt."
"Unless," said Mount Dunstan civilly, "there should arise the poor,
primeval brute, in his neolithic wrath, to seize on the man to blame,
and break every bone and sinew in his damned body."
"The newspapers would enjoy that more than she would," answered
Sir Nigel. "She does not like the newspapers. They are too ready
to disparage the multi-millionaire, and cackle about members of his
family."
The unhidden hatred which still professed to hide itself in the depths
of their pupils, as they regarded each other, had its birth in a passion
as elemental as the quakings of the earth, or the rage of two lions in
a desert, lashing their flanks in the blazing sun.
Pages:
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702