He could not face Ferlie before all that crowd. He could not.
From the ante-room he made his way to an apartment containing a bowl of goldfish. He remembered it commanded a view of the stairs. If she passed up or down the staircase, unattended, he might reasonably expect to have her for a moment to himself. He waited for a long while, watching the goldfish go round and round in circles. They roused misty recollections of Ferlie's nonsensical talk of the general imprisonment of human spirits.
When she did come, although she passed right through the room in her white veil and flowing draperies, he nearly failed to step forward from that sheltered corner by the bookcase.
"Ferlie!"
She started violently and swung round.
"Oh! It's you, is it?"
She spoke on a high-pitched delirious note. Naturally, people were agreeing any girl would be over-excited who had achieved this marriage.
Her whole appearance shocked Cyprian, who knew the real Ferlie.
"I never acknowledged your gift, Cyprian. The Apple of Discord. Clever of you to think of that. Not that I needed a material reminder of the fact that you and I had at last experienced ... shall we call it a misunderstanding?"
The words raced one another to a close, and she ended on the edge of shrill laughter. He flinched as if she had struck him in the face.