"Maxime Dalahaide will never be dangerous to any man again on this earth—not even to himself, since the worst has happened to him that can happen," answered Loria.
"Strange if, although he is buried in a prison-land at the other end of the world, he might still, in a vague, dim way, be a rival to fear more than another," Kate reflected dreamily. Aloud she went on: "It seems ridiculous to say so, but I believe that Virginia is making a hero of him. She has never seen this man—she never can see him; yet his image—evolved from that portrait at the château which was his old home—may blur others nearer to her."
"Great heavens! You believe that?"
"I merely suggest it. The idea only occurred to me at this moment. But Virginia is certainly thinking of Maxime Dalahaide. To-day, she was reading a French book about Noumea. She hid it when I came into the room; but later I came across it by accident. Yes, she is thinking of him, but it is only a girl's foolish, romantic fancy, of course—a spoilt child, crying for the moon, because it's the one thing that no adoring person can get for her. I shouldn't worry about it much, if I were you. Indeed, perhaps she sees herself that she is not very wise, and wants to forget. Now she has set her heart on a yachting trip; but you must not speak of it to her or the others, for she asked me not to tell."
"She gives me little enough chance to speak of anything. A short time ago she would not have cared for a yachting trip, unless I were to be of the party. Now, I suppose, her wish is to be rid of me."
"Her wish is also to be rid of me."
"You are not to go?"
"Not if Virginia can make a decent excuse to leave me behind."
"Who, then, goes with her?"
"Her half-brother, and Sir Roger Broom. She isn't even going to take a maid."