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Bennett, Arnold, 1867-1931

"The Pretty Lady"

He, of course, though absolutely loyal to her,
had for dignity's sake to practise the duplicity of pretending to make
up his mind what he should do.
They went through the Tube station and were soon in one of the
withdrawn streets between Coventry Street and Pall Mall East. The
episode had somehow the air of an adventure. He looked at her; the
hat was possibly rather large, but, in truth, she was the image of
refinement, delicacy, virtue, virtuous surrender. He thought it was
marvellous that there should exist such a woman as she. And he thought
how marvellous was the protective vastness of the town, beneath whose
shield he was free--free to live different lives simultaneously, to
make his own laws, to maintain indefinitely exciting and delicious
secrecies. Not half a mile off were Concepcion and Queen, and his
amour was as safe from them as if he had hidden it in the depths of
some hareemed Asiatic city.
Christine said politely:
"But I detain thee?"
"As for that," he replied, "what does that matter, after all?"
"Thou knowest," she said in a new tone, "I am all that is most
worried. In this London they are never willing to leave you in peace."
"What is it, my poor child?" he asked benevolently.


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