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Page 31
"Without asking any explanation?"
"Yes, dear. Yes. Because I love you----"
"And you would forgive me?"
"But, dear, there wouldn't be any need for forgiveness; the real, pure
you would not have done anything wrong."
Then he blundered.
Like most big men, he was diffident; he underestimated the attraction
of his strength allied to a very gentle courtesy; in fact, bound up in
his love for Damaris, he had never given it a thought excepting to
curse the awkwardness of his body and the slowness of his speech. He
knew nothing of the honesty which looked out of the eyes; the quiet
strength of his movements and speech; the feeling of confidence he
inspired.
He was not given to self-analysis; he loved the sun in the heavens, the
grass under foot and the traditions of his house too much to waste time
on that kind of thing.
So that, fearing to have hurt the girl or bored the girl, he plumped
her on her feet, when he could have won her and saved her and others,
including himself, a mint of pain if he had only just crushed her up to
his heart and kissed her.
She stood quite still, with that dazed little feeling which falls upon
one who has entered the wrong room.
"I'm not going to bother you any more, dear," he said, watching for the
flash of relief which did not cross the beautiful face.
"What are you going to do?"
"There has come a report of lion somewhere near Karnak. I think I
shall run down and have a look round. I thought of going on to Nairobi
once I was really fit, so have got all my shooting gear with me. But,
remember, you have only to send for me, and I will come. And don't try
to run away, Damaris." And his voice was stern as he took her by the
shoulders and drew her towards him. "You are mine! I'm letting you go
now because you want to learn about life, and that you can't do if you
have a man always on your heels. You will learn all right, dear, and
suffer a bit, dear, but you will come to me in the end.
"I can't offer you the witchery and colouring and poetry of the East,
but I do offer you the biggest love there has ever been in a man's
heart for a woman and------"
A troupe of riotous guests came streaming down the path.
"One o'clock!" they shouted. "One o'clock. Masks off; masks off!"
The two walked slowly towards them.
"You _would_ like a lion's skin, wouldn't you?" he asked eagerly, and
stared amazed at the reproachful, hurt eyes which looked back at him
just as the dancers swooped upon her.
A lion's skin! When she was craving for the strength of his arms about
her, and the tower of his love behind her, from the top of which she
could safely make monkey-faces of derision at Life, standing with
lesson-books in one hand and a cane in the other.
She turned her back on him and entered the ballroom, and he went back
to the seat in the garden, unconscious of the woman who watched.
And as the merry little crowd ran laughing into the hotel, the duchess,
with mind intent on a cigarette, slipped out of another door and
hurried as fast as her outrageous heels would allow her to a seat under
the date-palms.
She took a Three Castles from the jewelled Louis XV snuff-box, rasped a
match on the sole of one little crimson shoe, lit her cigarette, and
studied the slipper.
Then she turned her head and saw a man, an Arab, standing beside the
seat.
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