Emile's instinct prompted him vigorously to go back now and see how she
was getting on, but he dared not neglect the work of his Society.
There were letters to be written, arrangements to be made, all the
usual paraphernalia of intrigue to be kept going.
He returned to his own rooms and began to write savagely, using all his
will to expel from his brain the vision of the girl as he had seen her
last, semi-conscious, and yet with his name on her lips.
Michael had promised to see her again at six o'clock. It would be time
enough if he also went then. Besides, the Cause came first always, and
there were many women in the world. His pen tore fiercely over the
paper as something whispered: "Women? Yes. But another Arithelli--?"
CHAPTER XII
"I have something more to think of than Love. All the women in the
world would not make me waste an hour."
SAYING OF NAPOLEON.
The stolid niece blundered heavily about the room, doing things that
were entirely unnecessary, and raising much dust. She was a
conscientious person in her own way, and felt that she must get through
a certain amount of work in return for the anticipated reward.
Pages:
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162