But what Delaraynes want, God wants; and in an instant his obstructing hand was brushed aside and she was sitting up.
He looked into her eyes, hoping to fasten them on himself, and keep them off the hateful spectacle not fifty yards away. For a few seconds he was successful. He then proceeded to kiss her again in order to blot out the vision for yet a while longer.
"Denis!" she exclaimed, "for mercy's sake let me put my slide right, and then you can do what you like."
He desisted, shaken with overstimulated craving, and then all at once, his heart sank; for her keen eyes had seen what he hoped would have disappeared before she could notice it.
"Why, look!" she cried, "there's that little cat Vanessa walking alone with Lord Henry!"
"Yes," he rejoined, with as much indifference as he could summon.
"What on earth can they be doing?" she demanded craning her neck to see as much of them as possible.
"Oh, nothing—they're only walking. Slow enough in all conscience, I should think."
Leonetta was silent, her eyes fixed upon the couple slowly proceeding along the lower path. What could Lord Henry possibly see in that Jezebel! She recalled his hauteur and studious coldness towards herself, his air of deep understanding and mastery, his magic look of wizardly youth, his eloquence, his immense self-possession, his mysterious connection with Cleopatra's indisposition and recovery. What could it be that made him so indifferent to her?
She rose.