Athalie - Page 137/222

"Nothing--much."

"You must do something, Clive!"

"Oh, yes ... I travel,--go about."

"Is that all?"

"That's about all."

She had stepped aside to let the dancers pass; he moved with her.

She said in a low, even voice: "Is it pleasant to be back, Clive?"

He nodded in silence.

"Nothing has changed very much since you went away. There's a new

administration at the City Hall, a number of new sky-scrapers in town;

people danced the Tango day before yesterday, the Maxixe yesterday,

the Miraflores to-day, the Orchid to-morrow. That's about all, Clive."

And as he merely acquiesced in silence, she glanced up sideways at

him, and remained watching this new, sun-browned, lean-visaged version

of the boy she had first known and the boyish man who had gone out of

her life four years before.

"Would you like to see Hafiz?" she asked.

He turned quickly toward her: "Yes," he said, the ghost of a smile

lining the corners of his eyes.

"He's on my bed, asleep. Will you come?"

Slipping along the edges of the dancing floor and stepping daintily

over the rolled rugs, she led the way through the passage to her rose

and ivory bedroom, Clive following.

Hafiz opened his eyes and looked across at them from the pillow, stood

up, his back rounding into a furry arch; yawned, stretched first one

hind leg and then the other, and finally stood, flexing his forepaws

and uttering soft little mews of recognition and greeting.

"I wonder," she said, smilingly, "if you have any idea how much Hafiz

has meant to me?"

He made no reply; but his face grew sombre and he laid a lean,

muscular hand on the cat's head.

Neither spoke again for a little while. Finally his hand fell from the

appreciative head of Hafiz, dropping inert by his side, and he stood

looking at the floor. Then there was the slightest touch on his arm,

and he turned to go; but she did not move; and they confronted each

other, alone, and after many years.

Suddenly she stretched out both hands, looking him full in the eyes,

her own brilliant with tears: "I've got you back--haven't I?" she said unsteadily. But he could not

speak, and stood savagely controlling his quivering lip with his

teeth.

"I just want you as I had you, Clive--my first boy friend--who turned

aside from the bright highway of life to speak to a ragged child.... I

have had the boy; I have had the youth; I want the man, Clive,--honestly,

in perfect innocence.