“Perhaps I shall tell you confidentially of some other aspirations of mine—some day.”
He spoke slowly and with an emphasis and suggestiveness that could not be overlooked.
“And you will speak confidently on that subject, I am sure.”
She was lying back in her chair, with the firelight fluttering over her. The firelight was flinging rose leaves about her face.
That was what the effect suggested to him.
He noticed also how beautiful was the effect of the light shining through her hair. That was an effect which had been noticed before.
She turned her eyes suddenly upon him, when he did not reply to her word, “confidently.”
He repeated the word.
“Confidently—confidently;” then he shook his head. “Alas! no. A man who speaks confidently on the subject of his aspirations—on the subject of a supreme aspiration—is a fool.”
“And yet I remember that you assured me upon one occasion that man was master of his fate,” said she.