Титан

Airs from the Orient

           "

           Sheturnedupadark,smilingfacetohim,withlanguishing,inscrutableeyes,andherecognizedtheartistatlast,fullandclear.

           "Iseeyoulikemybracelet,don’tyou?"

           "It’sbeautiful,"shereplied,lookingdownandsurveyingitdreamily."Idon’talwayswearit.Icarryitinmymuff.I’vejustputitonforalittlewhile.Icarrythemallwithmealways.Ilovethemso.Iliketofeelthem."

           Sheopenedasmallchamoisbagbesideherlyingwithherhandkerchiefandasketch-bookwhichshealwayscarriedandtookouttheear-ringsandbrooch.

           Cowperwoodglowedwithastrangefeelingofapprovalandenthusiasmatthismanifestationofrealinterest.Helikedjadehimselfverymuch,butmorethanthatthefeelingthatpromptedthisexpressioninanother.Roughlyspeaking,itmighthavebeensaidofhimthatyouthandhopeinwomenparticularlyyouthwhencombinedwithbeautyandambitioninagirltouchedhim.Herespondedkeenlytoherimpulsetodoorbesomethinginthisworld,whateveritmightbe,andhelookedonthesmart,egoisticvanityofsomanywithakindly,tolerant,almostparentaleye.Poorlittleorganismsgrowingonthetreeoflifetheywouldburnoutandfadesoonenough.Hedidnotknowtheballadoftherosesofyesteryear,butifhehaditwouldhaveappealedtohim.

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