Part 6 (2/2)
”Not quite so bad as that,” Marion laughed, ”though I must confess a new man is an attraction here, especially at a tea, where there are at least two women to every one of the other s.e.x.”
”I suppose the natives are frightened away.”
”No, you wretch, they are all in business.”
”Lucky beggars.”
Marion gave him a side glance intended to be annihilating, and silently walked the few remaining steps. When they reached her door she stopped and said, somewhat coldly: ”Won't you come in, Mr. Grahame?”
”I certainly will, as I cannot leave with the mercury of your manners so low.”
”You surely do not fancy that you can make it rise.”
”I do,” he said confidently.
Marion looked at him scornfully, but it was an a.s.sumed scorn; as to herself she admitted a fondness for a.s.surance like Duncan's. Florence Moreland would have called it presumption, but Marion felt that it indicated a strong nature worthy of careful a.n.a.lysis. Her manner was often the navete of inexperience. She fancied that she knew the world, but her knowledge was theoretically culled from her yellow-covered romances. She frequently allowed men a freedom of speech which might be misunderstood at times, and excused herself by the thought that such carelessness became a woman of the world. She courted admiration because she felt it to be her due, and in her search for experiences of the world she often displayed an artlessness which was singularly liable to be misinterpreted by the men with whom she came in contact.
Just inside the door on the right of the hall was a wee room decorated in _Louis Quinze_ style, and into this they went. Delicate and cozy, with a polished floor, a leopard's skin rug, soft tinted walls, white and gold woodwork, a tiny open fire, a brocade screen, a chair or two and a tete-a-tete seat,--it was, in fact, a delightful expression of Marion's taste.
”Charming,” said Duncan as he sat down opposite Marion on the tete-a-tete and looked about him.
”I am glad something pleases you,” she replied as she threw aside her jacket. ”Your a.s.surance amazes me,” she continued. ”Last night you told me you had been about collecting bits of gossip about me in order to understand my character, and now you coolly inform me that you are capable of influencing my feelings. I ought to detest you.”
Duncan silently looked with his large, grey eyes into her face for a moment and then said, ”I wish you would.”
”Why?” she questioned wonderingly.
”Because we might end by being friends.”
”A repellent manner of attracting, certainly,” she replied.
”Exactly! kindred natures always repel one another with a force equal to their subsequent attraction.”
”That sounds like a proposition in physics.”
”In metaphysics, perhaps,” he answered. ”It means that if we first quarrel we shall eventually become sympathetic friends.”
”Polemical enemies, I should say,” Marion replied sharply.
”Why?”
”Because I am not willing to admit I am of so changeable a nature,” she replied.
”A mediocre nature will never change; an uncommon one invariably does,”
he said confidently.
”Another slur.”
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