Unless she resolutely thought of other things, she still felt the
restless touch of his hands, the grip of his arms, and saw his eyes as
they were when he was kissing her; and once more she felt frightened and
excited.
He was playing at the concert that evening--her last concert. And surely
he had never played like that--with a despairing beauty, a sort of
frenzied rapture. Listening, there came to her a feeling--a feeling of
fatality--that, whether she would or no, she could not free herself from
him.
V
Once back in England, Gyp lost that feeling, or very nearly. Her
scepticism told her that Fiorsen would soon see someone else who seemed
all he had said she was! How ridiculous to suppose that he would stop
his follies for her, that she had any real power over him! But, deep
down, she did not quite believe this. It would have wounded her belief
in herself too much--a belief so subtle and intimate that she was not
conscious of it; belief in that something about her which had inspired
the baroness to use the word "fatality."
Winton, who breathed again, hurried her off to Mildenham. He had bought
her a new horse. They were in time for the last of the cubbing. And, for
a week at least, the passion for riding and the sight of hounds carried
all before it. Then, just as the real business of the season was
beginning, she began to feel dull and restless.
Pages:
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65