“She is marrying because she wants a footman and her liberty,” said others.
“How stupid of her to get married,” said the third; “she doesn’t know that she will be even less her own mistress than she is now.”
“Don’t be afraid,” said the fourth, “she’ll hold her own in spite of her marriage.”
What was he like? Who was he? Where had she found him?
He was a young lawyer, rather effeminate in appearance, with broad hips and a shy manner. He was an only son, brought up by his mother and aunt. He had always been very much afraid of girls, and he detested the officers on account of their assurance, and because they were the favourites at all entertainments. That is what he was like.
They were staying at a watering place and met at a dance. He had come late and all the girls’ programmes were full. A laughing, triumphant “No!” was flung into his face wherever he asked for a dance, and a movement of the programme brushed him away as if he were a buzzing fly.
Offended and humiliated he left the ball-room and sat down on the verandah to smoke a cigar. The moon threw her light on the lime-trees in the Park and the perfume of the mignonette rose from the flower beds.
He watched the dancing couples through the windows with the impotent yearning of the cripple; the voluptuous rhythm of the waltz thrilled him through and through.
“All alone and lost in dreams?” said a voice suddenly. “Why aren’t you dancing?”
“Why aren’t you?” he replied, looking up.