What could she mean? He knew in his calmer moments he had not the least
cause to be jealous of Jack. What was the inference in her words? Two
weeks seemed a long time to wait before he could have all clouds
dispersed, all things explained--as she lay in his arms. And this
thought--to hold her in his arms--drove him wild. He felt inclined to
rush after her, to ask her to forgive him for his anger, to kiss and
caress her, to tell her he loved her madly and was jealous of even the
air she breathed until he should hear her say she loved him.
He went as far as to write a note.
"Madame," he began--He determined to keep to the severest formality or
he knew he would never be able to play his part until the end.--"I
regret my passion just now. The situation seemed peculiar as I came in.
I understand there was nothing for me to have been angry about,--please
forgive me. Rest now. I will come and fetch you at quarter to eight.
"Gritzko."
And as he went away he had it sent to her room.
And when Tamara read it the first gleam of comfort she had known since
the night at the hut illumined her thoughts. If he should love her--
after all!--But no, this could not be so; his behavior was not the
behavior of love. But in spite of the abiding undercurrent of
humiliation and shame, the situation was intensely exciting. She
feverishly looked forward to the evening.
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