Part 6 (1/2)
”No,” I said, ”I don't believe. Let us talk of something else, Aline-- if I may be permitted to call you by your Christian name?”
”You have called me by that name already without permission,” she laughed gaily, her manner instantly changing. ”It would be ungenerous of me to object, would it not?”
”You are extremely philosophical,” I observed, handing her my cup to be refilled.
”I'm afraid you must have formed a very curious opinion of me,” she replied.
”You seem to have no inclination to tell me anything of yourself,” I said. ”I fancy I have told you all about myself worth knowing, but you will tell me nothing in exchange.”
”Why should you desire to know? I cannot interest you more than a mere pa.s.sing acquaintance, to be entertained to-day and forgotten to-morrow.”
”No, not forgotten,” I said reproachfully. ”You may forget me, but I shall never forget our meeting the other night.”
”It will be best if you do forget me,” she declared.
”But I cannot!” I declared pa.s.sionately, bending and looking straight into her beautiful countenance.
”I shall never forget.”
”Because my face interests you, you are fascinated! Come, admit the truth,” she said, with a plain straightforwardness that somewhat took me aback.
”Yes,” I said. ”That's the truth. I freely admit it.”
She laughed a light, merry, tantalising laugh, as if ridiculing such an idea. Her face at that instant seemed more attractive than ever it appeared before; her smiling lips, half-parted, seemed pouted, inviting me to kiss them.
”Why should a man be attracted by a woman's face?” she argued, growing suddenly serious again. ”He should judge her by her manner, her thoughts, her womanly feeling, and her absence of that masculine affectation which in these days so deforms the feminine character.”
”But beauty is one of woman's most charming attributes,” I ventured to remark.
”Are not things that are most beautiful the most deadly?”
”Certainly, some are,” I admitted.
”Then for aught you know the influence I can exert upon you may be of the most evil kind,” she suggested.
”No, no!” I hastened to protest. ”I'll never believe that--never! I wish for no greater pleasure than that you should remain my friend.”
She was silent for some time, gazing slowly around the room. Her breast heaved and fell, as if overcome by some flood of emotion which she strove to suppress. Then, turning again to me, she said--
”I have forewarned you.”
”Of what?”
”That if we remain friends it can result in nothing but evil.”
I was puzzled. She spoke so strangely, and I, sitting there fascinated by her marvellous beauty, gazed full at her in silence.
”You speak in enigmas,” I exclaimed.
”You have only to choose for yourself.”
”Your words are those of one who fears some terrible catastrophe,” I said. ”I don't really understand.”