“I explained to him the nature of my own illness and my reason for coming to Sulu.
“‘I came to rest in smooth waters,’ he replied. ‘It is a charming island.’ We talked of other things and soon discovered many mutual friends. When at last we left, at my insistence, the Countess, at the suggestion of her husband, invited us to dine the following night.
“Stewart was silent on the way in—moody, taciturn, tugging at his crisp mustache. As we entered the house he burst out:
“‘Did you ever see a more beautiful woman, Leyden? Jove, what hair! what a figure!’
“‘I find the husband more interesting,’ said I. ‘Any white woman would be beautiful if one stood her up against the shadow of the equator.’
“He grunted like a peccary. ‘Her husband?—her proprietor!—it’s gross flattery to speak of that wreck as her husband. What right has a cadaver like that to a wife? A widow would be a jolly lot more becoming. What’s he got to hold her with?’
“‘A yacht, a title, a good mind and a wedding ring,’ said I.
“‘Might hold some women,’ he growled; ‘can’t hold that one,’ and he took himself off to bed.
“We went aboard the yacht the following night, and I do not think that I have ever spent a more disagreeable social evening. The Countess was glorious in the most daring of black décolleté gowns. Her great blue eyes were gleaming like sapphires, and her hair put one in mind of the burnished copper one sees when the schooner heels to the trade-wind. Fancy, Doctor, one of those profuse Californians, abundant as a cluster of Tokay grapes, thrust close against a yellow-haired atavism of the Neolithic age like my poor acquaintance Stewart. Ach! he was drunk before he had finished his sherry; at every sip he tasted the subtle perfume of her, and the cup she held to him was filled with wine as old as the race and as deep as the blue of her sapphire eyes. She was receiving, I fancy, as well as giving. Ach! it was very primitive! Instead of the yacht and the sparkle of the yellow lamp-light on the plate and glass there should have been a forest and the pale moonlight filtering through the boughs of giant hemlocks....
“I looked at the Count, and upon my word, Doctor, I saw that he was relishing the thing!—more than that, he was enjoying it! Perhaps it was the interest of the student; perhaps he was absorbing the warmth of fires which no longer kindled on his own hearth. At any rate, he was eagerly receptive of this spectacle, repellant to me in its unfitness, and was drinking it with parted lips, a tinge of color in his hollow cheeks, a deep glow in his red-brown eyes. There was nothing malicious in his regard; rather, it was the acme of benevolence. He caught my eye and smiled as he had done the day before.