"What of him? What did he know? What did he tell you—of him?"
Douglas's expression of blank surprise seemed an immense relief to her.
"Only—something like what he told me of himself. He also was foolish enough to fall in love with you, and—"
She rose suddenly and held out her hand.
"Come, my friend," she said, "I have had enough of this. Take me out to my carriage. I think you are very wise to avoid such a dangerous person."
She swept out of the room before him, and down the broad stairs. A footman stood by the side of her victoria until she had settled herself in the most comfortable corner. Then he mounted the box, and she leaned for a moment forward.
"You won't come?" she asked, with a slight gesture of invitation towards the vacant seat.
But Douglas, to whom the invitation seemed, in a sense, allegorical, shook his head. He pointed eastwards.
"The taste of the lotus is sweet," he said, "but one must live."