'Since I am willing to forgive you for losing your head just now,' she
said, 'it's for me to decide whether you may ever see me again, and if
so when, and where. I've been very good to you. Now I am going.' It seemed to him that she had grown all at once in strength and
individuality till there was nothing for him to do but to submit. This
was an illusion, no doubt; she was just what she had always been, and
what he had always judged her, a gifted young woman, rather inclined to
flirt and easily guided in any direction, whose exuberant animal
vitality might pass for strong character in the eyes of an
inexperienced innocent like Lushington, but could not deceive an old
hand like Logotheti for a moment. Nevertheless, when she had spoken her
last words and was leading the way out of the room, Logotheti felt a
little like a small boy who has had his ears boxed for being too
cheeky, which is a sensation not at all pleasant or natural to an old
hand.
As he took her down in the little lift, he vaguely wondered whether he
had ever thought of her till now except as an animated work of art;
comparable in beauty with his encaustic painting or his dearly loved
Aphrodite; worth more than either of them as a possible possession, as
life is worth more than stone, and endowed with a divine voice; but
having neither soul, intelligence, nor will to speak of, nor any
original power of ruling others, still less of resisting a systematic
and prolonged attack.
The change had come quickly. Logotheti thought of beautiful beings of
old, disguised as yielding, mortal women, who had visited the men they
loved on earth and had by and by revealed themselves as true and
puissant goddesses, moving in a sphere of rosy light, and speaking only
to command.
Logotheti took her down in the lift and they went back into the big
room where they had left Madame De Rosa. They found her looking out of
the window. Books did not interest her, nor pictures either, there was
no piano in the room and the maraschino was locked up. So there was
nothing to do but to look out of the window. As the two came in she
turned sharply to them, with her head on one side, as birds do, and her
intelligent little eyes sparkled. She was a good little woman herself,
and believed in heaven and salvation, but she had no particular belief
in man and none at all in woman. On the other hand, she had a very keen
scent for the truth in love affairs, and in Logotheti's subdued
expression she instantly detected sure signs of discomfiture, which
were fully confirmed by Margaret's serene and superior manner. Men
sometimes follow women into a room with such an air of submission that
one almost looks for the string by which they are led.