No one has any
influence upon him. I have given up trying. One must accept him as he
is, or leave him alone--he will go his own way."
Tamara had ceased fighting with herself about the interest she took in
conversations relating to the Prince. She could not restrain her desire
to hear of him, but she explained it now by telling herself he was a
rather lurid and unusual foreign character, which must naturally be an
interesting study for a stranger.
"It was an escape for the girl at least, perhaps," she said, when the
Princess paused.
"Of that I am not sure; he is so tender to children and animals, and
his soul is full of generosity and poetry--and justice too. Poor
Gritzko," and the Princess sighed.
Then Tamara remembered their conversation during their night ride from
the Sphinx, and she felt again the humiliating certainty of how
commonplace he must have found her.
Presently the Princess took her to see the house. Every room filled
with relics of the grand owners who had gone before. There were
portraits of Peter the Great, and the splendid Catherine, in almost
every room.
"An Empress so much misjudged in your country, Tamara," her godmother
said. "She had the soul and the necessities of a man, but she was truly
great."
Tamara gazed up at the proud _d?bonnaire_ face, and she thought how at
home they would think of the most unconventional part of her character,
to the obliteration of all other aspects, and each moment she was
realizing how ridiculous and narrow was the view from the standpoint
from which she had been made to look at life.
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