"Ain't it--ain't it truer than the other
thing? There's something beastly about love; that's what I always think."
And she spoke with the sincerest conviction. When Julian left her that
day, he shook hands with her by the door; she stood after he had done it
as if still half expectant.
"There's a man's good-bye to a man," he said. "Better sort of thing than
a man's good-bye to a woman, isn't it?"
"Rather!" she said hastily, and moved back into the sitting-room.
She stepped on something, and bent down to pick it up. It was Marr's
photograph.
"What's that?" Julian asked.
"Nothing," she said, concealing it. She had a foolish fancy that even
the photograph of the creature she had feared and hated might spoil that
good-bye of theirs. Yet even as it was, when Julian had gone she still
seemed unsatisfied.
She was a woman after all, and woman is most feminine in her farewells.
CHAPTER II
VALENTINE SINGS
When Valentine heard of the scene in Marylebone Road he smiled.
"How extraordinary women are," he said. "A man might give his life to
them, I suppose, yet never understand them."
"It would be rather jolly--making that gift, I mean," said Julian.
"You think so? Since last night."
"I want to talk to you about that, Valentine, d'you blame me?"
"Not a bit.
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