“Only a few minutes. It doesn’t matter.”
But her voice seemed sadly small and thin in comparison with Victor’s rotund and measured intonations.
“Forgive me.” Victor rose, nodding to indicate the shining crystal. “I have been consulting my familiar,” he said with a light laugh. “You have heard of crystal-gazing? A fascinating art that languishes in undeserved neglect. The ancients were more wise, they knew there was more in Heaven and Earth.... You are incredulous? But I assure you, I myself, though far from proficient, have caught strange glimpses of unborn events in the heart of that transparent enigma.”
He took her hands and cuddled them in his own.
She quivered irrepressibly to his touch.
“But you are trembling!” he protested, solicitous, looking down into her face—“you are wan and sad, my dear. Tell me you are not ill.”
“It is nothing,” Sofia replied—again in that faint, stifled voice. She added in determined effort to subdue her trembling and turn their talk to essentials: “You sent for me—I am here.”
“I am so sorry. If I had guessed ...” Enlightenment seemed to dawn all at once. “But surely it isn’t because of that stupid business with Karslake? Surely you didn’t take him seriously?”
“How should I—?”
“It is too absurd. The poor fool misconstrued my instructions to make himself agreeable—I am so taken up with the gravest matters at present, I didn’t want you to feel lonely or neglected—and, it appears, felt it incumbent upon him to flirt with you as a matter of duty. I am out of temper with him, but not unreasonable; I shan’t dispense with his services altogether, without more provocation, but will find other work to keep him busy and out of your way. You need fear no more annoyance from that quarter.”