So she left the room quietly. And when she was gone he walked wildly up and down for a moment—then he bent and passionately kissed the cushion she had leant on.
Tamara would learn what his love meant—when the day should come.
CHAPTER XX
The lunch passed off with quiet reserve—there was no one present but
Stephen Strong. Tamara endeavored to behave naturally and answered
Gritzko whenever he spoke to her. He, too, played his part, but the
tone of things did not impose upon Stephen Strong.
As they were leaving the diningroom, on the plea of finding something,
Tamara went to her room, and Gritzko took his leave.
"I will fetch you for the French plays tonight, Tantine," he said, "and probably will come back to tea—tell Tamara," and so he left, and the two old friends were alone.
They stirred their coffee and then lit cigarettes—there was an awkward silence for a moment, and then the Princess said:
"Stephen, I count upon you to help us all over this. I do not, and will not, even guess what has happened, but of course something has. Only tell me, do you think he loves her? I cannot bear the idea of Tamara's being unhappy."
The old Englishman puffed rings of smoke.
"If she is prepared never to cross his will, but let him be absolute master of her body and soul, while he makes continuous love to her, I should think she will be the happiest woman in the world. She is madly infatuated with him. She has been ever since we came from Egypt—I saw the beginning on the boat—and I warned you, as you know, when I thought he was only fooling."