Valentina darted a wildly reproachful look at him, which he met for a moment, flushed, and turned from with a shiver.
“May I see you to your carriage, Lady Grayson?” he said.
“Oh, thank you, Mr Dale: if you would. Goodbye, dearest,” she cried, with a triumphant mocking look at the fierce, beautiful face. “You must let me drop you at your studio, Mr Dale,” she continued; and as the door closed behind them, Valentina started from her chair to press her hands to her temples, uttering a low, piteous moan.
“Cast off! and for her!” she cried wildly. “She has always been trying to lure him from me—him—my husband; and she could not rest in her suspicions without coming back.”
She ran to the window to stand unseen, gazing down, and to her agony she saw Dale step into the carriage, take his seat beside Lady Grayson, and be carried off.
Valentina turned from the window with her face convulsed, but it grew smooth and beautiful, and there was a dreamy look in her eyes, and a smile upon her parted, humid lips.
“I am mad,” she said to herself, with a mocking laugh. “He care for her! Absurd! He loves me! In his brave fight he struggled hard, but—he loves me. His arms did hold me to his breast; his lips did press mine. And she?—poor weak fool, with her transparent trick, to return and play the spy. Let her know, and have a hold upon me, and defy me about Cesare. She will threaten me some day if I revile her. Poor fool! I am the stronger—stronger than ever now. I could defy the world, for, in spite of his cold looks, his anger against himself—he loves me.”
She raised her eyes and stood looking straight before her for some moments, and then started, but recovered herself and smiled as she gazed at the figure before her in one of the mirror-filled panels of the room.
For she saw reflected there a face and figure that she felt no man could resist, and the smile upon her face grew brighter, the dreamy look intensified, as she murmured—
“At last! After these long, barren, weary years, love, the desire of a woman’s life;” and closing her eyes, she slowly extended her arms as, in a whisper soft as the breath of eve, she murmured, “At last! Come back to me, my love—my life—my god.”