Nothing in the world could be so fierce as that determined absence of ferocity, nothing so energetic as that negation of all energy, nothing so proud as that contemptuous rejection of all that had to do with pride.
It was as though she had said: "They shall see nothing of me, these people. I will give them nothing" ... and then the green jade on her bosom had betrayed her.
Maliciously the dragons grinned behind her back.
III
Arkwright, as he watched, was conscious suddenly of an overwhelming curiosity. He had in earlier days seen her portrait, and always it had been interesting, suggestive, provocative; but now, as he stood there, he was aware that something quite definite, something uncomfortably disconcerting had occurred; life absurdly seemed to warn him that he must prepare for some new development.
The Duchess had, he was aware, taken notice of him for the first time.
Little Felix Brun watched Arkwright with interest. They were, at that moment, the only persons in the room, and it was as though they had begged for a private interview and had been granted it. The other portraits of the exhibition had vanished into the mild May afternoon.
"She doesn't like us," Brun said, laughing. "She'd turn the dragons on to us if she could."
"It's wonderful." Arkwright moved back a little. "Young Ross has done it this time. No other portrait has ever given one the least idea of her. She must be that."