Had she heard anything of his private
life in Rome?--a life he kept carefully concealed from everyone who
might be likely to report his little amusements at the Palazzo
Sovrani? A slight, very slight touch of shame pricked him, as he
noted the grace of her figure, the dainty poise of her head on her
slim white throat--the almost royal air of dignity and sweetness
which seemed to surround her,--there was no doubt whatever of her
superiority to the women he generally consorted with, and for a
moment he felt remorseful,--but he soon dismissed his brief
compunction with a laugh.
"No, sweet Angela," he said gaily, "it is not worth thinking of!
Believe me! I will not enter into any such profound discussions with
you. My present time is too short, and your attractions too many!
Why did you slip out of my arms so unkindly just now? Surely you
were not offended? Comeback! Come, and we will go up to the great
picture as lovers should, together--entwined in each other's arms!--
and you shall then draw the mysterious curtain,--or shall I?"
She still hesitated. Then after a pause, she came towards him once
more, the soft colour alternately flushing and paling her cheeks, as
she laid her hand on his arm.
"You did not answer me," she said, "when I asked you just now if you
believed that a woman's work could be as purposeful as a man's--
sometimes indeed more so.
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