But why have you kept up the deception so long,
when, after all, there was nothing behind the veil? That was surely
unnecessary."
"What is the matter with you, Val? I don't understand you."
"Nor I you. And yet we say that we are intimate friends. There's an
irony."
At this point the waiter came in with an omelette, and the conversation
ceased, checked by his peripatetic presence. As soon as he had retreated,
with all the hushed activity of a mute rolling on casters, Julian
exclaimed:
"It's not an irony. You choose to make it so. You're not yourself
to-night, Valentine. I do not compare you with poor Cuckoo. How could
I? She's down in the dirt and you are far away from the dirt. And of
course your power over any one must be a thousand times greater than
hers."
"If it came to a battle? If it came to a battle?" interrupted Valentine.
"You say that, Julian?"
"A battle! of what?"
"Of wills, naturally, Cuckoo Bright's will against mine?"
"But what a strange idea--"
"You haven't answered my question."
"Because I don't see the force of it."
"Answer it nevertheless."
"Then Cuckoo would be beaten at once," Julian said. But there was no
ring of conviction in his voice, and he fell at once into silence after
he had spoken the words.
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