"He is absolutely fearless, and as cool as an Englishman, and there are
not any mean things told about him, though," Steven Strong continued,
"and indeed sometimes he lives the simplest country life with his
horses and dogs, and his own people worship him, I believe. But there
is no wildest prank he is incapable of if his blood is up."
"I think he looks like it," said Tamara. "Is it because he habitually
wears uniform that his ordinary clothes fit so badly? To our eyes he
seems dressed like some commis voyageur."
"Of course," said Stephen Strong. "And even in Paris I don't suppose
you would approve of him in that respect, but if you could see him in
Petersburg, then I believe you would be like all the rest."
"All which rest?" asked Tamara.
"Women. They simply adore him. Bohemians, great ladies, actresses,
dancers, and----"
He was just going to mention those of another world, when he felt
Tamara would hardly understand him, so he stopped short.
Something in her rose up in arms.
"It shows how foolish they are," she said.
Stephen Strong glanced at her sideways, and if she could have read his
thoughts they were:
"This sweet Englishwoman is under Gritzko's spell already, and how she
is battling against it! She won't have a chance, though, if he makes up
his mind to win."
But Tamara, for all her gentle features, was no weakling; only her life
had been a long hibernation; and now the spring had come, and soon the
time of the finding of honey and a new life.
Pages:
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50