"Strelsa," he said, "however it was with us—however it is now, I think that together we amount to more than we ever could have amounted to apart."
"I know it," she said fervently. "I was nothing until I began to comprehend you."
"What was I before you awoke me?"
"A man neglecting his nobler self.... But it could not have lasted; your real self could not have long endured that harlequinade we once thought was real life.... I'm glad if you think that I—something about me—aroused you.... But if I had not, somebody or some circumstance would have very soon served the same purpose."
"Do you think so?" he said, stooping to kiss her hands. She looked at him while he did so, confused by the quick pleasure of the contact, then schooled herself to endure it, setting her lips in a grave, firm line.
And it was a most serious face he lifted his eyes to as she quietly withdrew her fingers from his.
"You always played the courtier to perfection," she said, trying to speak lightly. "Tell me about that accomplished and noble peer, Lord Dankmere. Are you still inclined to like him?"
He accepted her light and careless change of tone instantly, and spoke laughingly of Dankmere:
"He's really a mighty nice fellow, Strelsa. Anyway, I like him. And what do you think his lordship has been and gone and done?"
"Has he become a Russian dancer, Rix?"