VI
Olivia returned to her old home. Blaise Olifant, her tenant there, welcomed her, properly chaperoned by his sister, gave her a home. He was a one-armed man with a long, long nose. He had loved Olivia long. He longed for Olivia’s love. But he was a model of honorable circumspection, and for some time nothing happened to disturb the platonic calm of their relations.
Then the passion of Blaise Olifant suddenly flamed forth. (One is careful in the choice of a verb to describe the conflagration.) He flung his arms about her and kissed her passionately. She half-surrendered. She tried to respond to his kiss—but couldn’t. His long, long nose intervened.
How he managed to kiss her, she never knew. But there it was. His long, long nose. Impossible to love a man like that. Taper fingers, yes! Tapir nose, no. Olifant!—Elephant!—could he be? But, whether he was or not, she could not kiss him, try as she might. The obstacle was insurmountable, inevitable. So she gave it up and decided to be true to Alexis.