"
"Are you so--cold?"
"When I choose."
"Ah!" It was a sigh rather than an exclamation. "And yet, on
the ship--do you remember? Look at me, M. Lamar. Am I not--am I
so little worthy of a thought?"
Her lips were parted with tremulous feeling; her eyes glowed with
a strange fire, and yet were tender. Indeed, she was "worthy of a
thought"--dangerously so; I felt my pulse stir. It was necessary
to assume a stoicism I was far from feeling, and I looked at her
with a cynical smile and spoke in a voice as carefully deliberate
as I could make it.
"Le Mire," I said, "I could love you, but I won't." And I turned
and left her without another word.
Why? I haven't the slightest idea. It must have been my vanity.
Some few men had conquered Le Mire; others had surrendered to
her; certainly none had ever been able to resist her. There was a
satisfaction in it. I walked about the lobby of the hotel till
Harry returned, idiotically pleased with myself.
At the breakfast table I acquainted Harry with our plans for a
cruise, and he was fully as eager about it as Le Mire had been.
He wanted to weigh anchor that very afternoon. I explained that
it was necessary to wait for funds from New York.
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