Perhaps to act and speak as one pleased was
one of the signs of greatness, one of its perquisites. Was
he amusing himself with her? Was he perchance taken with
her physically and employing these extraordinary methods as
ways of approach? She had seen many peculiarities of
sex-approach in men--some grotesque, many terrible, all beyond
comprehension. Was this another such?
He wheeled suddenly, surprised her eyes upon him. He burst
out laughing, and she felt that he had read her thoughts.
However, he merely said:
"Have you anything to suggest--about Spenser?"
"I can't even tell him of your offer now. He's very ill--and
sensitive about you."
"About me? How ridiculous! I'm always coming across men I
don't know who are full of venom toward me. I suppose he
thinks I crowded him. No matter. You're sure you're not
fancying yourself in love with him?"
"No, I am not in love with him. He has changed--and so have I."
He smiled at her. "Especially in the last hour?" he suggested.
"I had changed before that. I had been changing right along.
But I didn't realize it fully until you talked with me--no,
until after you gave me your card this morning."
"You saw a chance--a hope--eh?"
She nodded.
"And at once became all nerves and courage. . . . As to
Spenser--I'll have some play carpenter sent to collaborate
with him and set him up in the play business.
Pages:
882
883
884
885
886
887
888
889
890
891
892
893
894
895
896
897
898
899
900
901
902
903
904
905
906