It was for a particular reason! It was
reason enough for me, of course, I answered, that she had given me leave.
She looked at me a moment with that extraordinary gaze of hers which
seemed so absolutely audacious in its candour, and rejoined that I paid
more compliments than our young friend there, but that she was sure I was
not half so sincere. "But it's about him I want to talk," she said. "I
want to ask you many things; I want you to tell me all about him. He
interests me; but you see my sympathies are so intense, my imagination is
so lively, that I don't trust my own impressions. They have misled me
more than once!" And she gave a little tragic shudder.
I promised to come and compare notes with her, and we bade her farewell
at her carriage door. Pickering and I remained a while, walking up and
down the long glazed gallery of the Kursaal. I had not taken many steps
before I became aware that I was beside a man in the very extremity of
love. "Isn't she wonderful?" he asked, with an implicit confidence in my
sympathy which it cost me some ingenuity to elude. If he were really in
love, well and good! For although, now that I had seen her, I stood
ready to confess to large possibilities of fascination on Madame
Blumenthal's part, and even to certain possibilities of sincerity of
which my appreciation was vague, yet it seemed to me less ominous that he
should be simply smitten than that his admiration should pique itself on
being discriminating.
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