“You see that while you make study of others, I make study of you. I should wish to be your friend. I should in fact fear to have you count me an enemy.”
Lena blinked at him in an uncomprehending way with her big eyes, and he smiled innocently in return.
“A woman who is an enemy is a danger. But men are tough-skinned and hard to kill. Is it not so? And even a woman enemy is often powerless to hurt. But when a woman hates a woman, then the case is different. A woman is easy to hurt. A little blow, even a breath on her reputation or to her pride, and the woman is wounded beyond repair. Is it not so?”
Still Lena stared blankly at him, but as he did not return her gaze, her eyes followed his to the other side of the room where Miss Elton bent over a table, with Mr. Early on one side of her and Dick Percival on the other.
“Oh!” she said with a little gasp. “Oh!” And Ram Juna looked back at her and smiled again.
“Therefore I was right to desire your friendship and not your enmity, was I not?” said he. “I, too, am a good friend and a bad enemy. See, Mr. Early shows some wonderful Japanese paintings. Shall we join them in the inspection?”
And Lena went with wonder, and in her mind there began to form vague clumsy purposes which the Hindu would have despised if he had read them.
Nor did her conversation with her husband in the home-returning carriage tend to soften Lena’s heart.
Dick was in an uncomfortable and irritable state of mind which was strange and disconcerting even to himself. Instead of giving her the big hug that was his habit when they found themselves safely alone, he said sharply,
“Lena, you use too much perfume about you. I wish you wouldn’t.”