“As I have made you!” he repeated, with triumphant emphasis. “The majority of men and women are governed chiefly by two passions, Appetite and Sex. You have neither Appetite nor Sex,—therefore you are on a higher plane——”
“Than yours?” she asked.
The question stung him a little, but he answered at once:
“Possibly!”
She smiled,—a little cold smile like the flicker of a sun-ray on ice. They had arrived at the border of the lake, and a boat with the picturesque lateen sail of Geneva awaited them with Vasho in charge. Diana stepped in and seated herself among a pile of cushions arranged for her comfort,—Dimitrius took the helm, and Vasho settled himself down to the management of the ropes. The graceful craft was soon skimming easily along the water with a fair light wind, and Diana in a half-reclining attitude, looking up at the splendid sky, found herself wishing that she could sail on thus, away from all things present to all things future! All things past seemed so long past!—she scarcely thought of them,—and “all things future”?—What would they be?
Dimitrius, seated close beside her at the stern, suddenly addressed her in a low, cautious tone.
“You know that this is the first week in June?”
“Yes.”
“Your time is drawing very near,” he went on. “On the evening of the twentieth you will come to me in the laboratory. And you will be ready—for anything!”
She heard him, apparently uninterested, her face still upturned to the stars.