Easy to read it was, common-minded, common-hearted
humanity in full sail to petty triumph, petty revenge. But all this was
taking place in the room behind Lady Holme, and she was leaning from the
window watching the white road. But Fritz? She glanced round the
drawing-room and saw that he was moved by the story as they had meant him
to be moved. The angry jealousy of the primitive, sensual man was aflame,
His possessive sense, one of the strongest, if not the strongest, of such
a man's senses, was outraged. And he showed it.
He was standing with a middle-aged lady, one of the committee, but he had
ceased from talking to her, and was staring at Miss Schley and Leo with
the peculiar inflated look on his face that was characteristic of him
when his passions were fully roused. Every feature seemed to swell and
become bloated, as if under the influence of a disease or physical
seizure. The middle-aged lady looked at him with obvious astonishment,
then turned away and spoke to the French actor.
Miss Schley moved slowly into the middle of the room. She did not seem to
see Fritz. Two or three people came to speak to her. She smiled but did
not say much. The little wiry-looking old lady, her mother from
Susanville, stood by her in an effaced manner, and Leo, holding the
bouquet, remained close beside her, standing over her in his impudent
fashion like a privileged guardian and lover.
Lady Holme was watching Fritz.
Pages:
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263