You were like
one in a dream. It was not my place to awaken you. I left that for
Life, '_la vie_' that you were so anxious to experience. You made
yourself '_Chateaux en Espagne_.' We all do that at some time or other."
"Nobody really cares what becomes of me except--" she broke off the
sentence and continued steadily. "My people don't mind whether I am here
or not. They won't like it if I come back a failure."
In his heart Emile cursed the Fates. Her awakening had been a complete
one. At first novelty and excitement had served as merciful
anaesthetics, but they could not last for ever.
He was not in love with her, he still told himself, but he would miss
her. Women like the Roumanoff were the women to whom men made passionate
love, but Arithelli was unique. She had become part of his life in
Barcelona. Their lives had touched and mingled till it was impossible to
believe that he had only known her for a few short months. A future
without her would be one without interest. For her he could see no
future. She would have to go to the devil some way or another
eventually, and there would be plenty of people ready and willing to
provide her with an escort.
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