She parried the question. "The name caught my eye by accident. Naturally I was interested by the coincidence."
Rivière turned the conversation to the impersonal subject of Arles and its Roman remains, and soon after they said good-night.
"Shall I see you at breakfast?"
"I hope so," he answered.
As she moved out of the room, a splendidly graceful figure radiating health and energy and life full-tide, Rivière could not help following her with his eyes. His innermost being thrilled despite himself to the magic of her splendid womanhood.
It plucked at the strings of the primitive man within him.
In his room that evening he took up the blood-drenched handkerchief. In the corner was the name "Elaine Verney." The name conveyed nothing to him. He threw the handkerchief away, and shut her from his thoughts. He wanted no woman in this new life of his.
With the morning came a resolution to avoid her altogether. He rose very early and took the first train out of Arles.