“Not the least in the world!” responded El-Râmi with apparent readiness, though the keen observer might have detected a slight ring of satirical coldness in his tone.
“He is a curious fellow,” continued Roy, looking at Féraz where he stood, going through the formality of an introduction to Miss Chester, whose bold bright eyes rested upon him in frank and undisguised admiration. “He seems to know nothing of life.”
“What do you call ‘life’?” demanded El-Râmi, with harsh abruptness.
“Why, life as we men live it, of course,” answered Roy, complacently.
“‘Life, as we men live it!’” echoed El-Râmi. “By Heaven, there is nothing viler under the sun than life lived so! The very beasts have a more decent and self-respecting mode of behaviour,—and the everyday existence of an ordinary ‘man about town’ is low and contemptible as compared with that of an honest-hearted dog!”
Ainsworth lifted his languid eyes with a stare of amazement;—Irene Vassilius smiled.
“I agree with you!” she said softly.
“Oh, of course!” murmured Roy sarcastically—“Madame Vassilius agrees with everything that points to, or suggests, the utter worthlessness of Man!”
Her eyes flashed.
“Believe me,” she said, with some passion, “I would give worlds to be able to honour and revere men,—and there are some whom I sincerely respect and admire,—but I frankly admit that the majority of them awaken nothing in me but the sentiment of contempt. I regret it, but I cannot help it.”