I love you because
you are what you are. I should not love you if you
were the ordinary woman, the sort who marries and
merges. But I'm old enough to spare myself--and
you--the consequences of what it would mean if we
were anything but strangers to each other.''
``Yes, you must keep away--altogether. If you
didn't, I'd be neither the one thing nor the other, but
just a poor failure.''
``You'll not fail,'' said he. ``I know it. It's
written in your face.'' He looked at her. She was not
looking at him, but with eyes gazing straight ahead
was revealing that latent, inexplicable power which,
when it appeared at the surface, so strongly dominated
and subordinated her beauty and her sex. He shut his
teeth together hard and glanced away.
``You will not fail,'' he repeated bitterly. ``And
that's the worst of it.''
Without another word, without a handshake, he went.
And she knew that, except by chance, he would never
see her again--or she him.
Moldini, disheveled and hysterical with delight and
suspense, was in the drawing-room--had been there
half an hour.
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