Fluffy was in her street-attire—young, eager and caparisoned for conquest. She seemed entirely unrelated to the shuddering Diana in the Tyrolese huntsman’s costume, whom he had last seen breaking her heart in the dressing-room of The Belshazzar. He stepped aside to let her pass; then he entered.
He found himself in a large sunlit room in a riot of disorder—whether with packing or unpacking it was difficult to tell. Evidently some one had gone through a storm of shopping. Frocks were strewn in every direction; opera-cloaks and evening-gowns lay on the floor, on the bed, on the backs of chairs. Hats were half out of milliners’ boxes. Shoes and slippers lay jumbled in a pile in a suit-case. It was fitting that he and Desire should meet again in a hired privacy, like transients.
She stood against a wide window, looking down on the Embankment She was wearing a soft green peignoir trimmed with daisies. It was almost transparent, so that in the strong sunlight her slight figure showed through it It was low-cut and clinging—a match in color to the Guinevere costume which she had been wearing when he had discovered her at Glastonbury. Had she intended that it should waken memories? As he watched he was certain that that had been her intention, for she was adorned with another reminder: a false curl had usurped the place of the old one she had given him. It danced against her neck, quivering with excitement, and seemed to beckon.
Her back was towards him. She must have heard Fluffy speaking to him. She must know that he was on the threshold. He closed the door quietly and halted.
“Meester Deek, are you glad to see me?” She spoke without turning. \
Her question went unanswered. In the silence it seemed to repeat itself maddeningly. She drummed with her fingers on the pane, as though insisting that until he had answered he should not see her face.
At last her patience gave out She glanced across her shoulder. Something in his expression warned her. Running to him, she caught his hands and pressed against him, laughing into his eyes. She waited submissively for his arms to enfold her. When he remained unmoved, she whispered luringly, “I’m as amiable as I ever shall be.”
“Are you?”
She pouted. “Once if I’d told you that——
“Are you!”