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Page 48
'Oh, I dare say I'm English enough. Though I don't see how you knew
it. Don't tell me you knew it from my accent.'
'_Oh, non pas_,' she hastened to protest. 'But you're the new owner of
Saint-Graal. Everybody of the country knows, of course, that the new
owner of Saint-Graal, Mr. Warringwood, is English.'
'Ah, then she's of the country,' was Paul's mental note.
'And I thought all Englishmen were horsemen,' she went on.
'Oh, there are a few bright exceptions--there's a little scattered
remnant. It's the study of my life to avoid being typical.'
'Ah, well, then give _me_ the strap.'
He gave her the strap, and in the twinkling of an eye she had snapped
the necessary buckle. Then she looked up at him and smiled oddly. It
occurred to him that the entire comedy of the strap had perhaps been
invented as an excuse for opening a conversation; and he was at once
flattered and disappointed. 'Oh, if she's that sort ...' he thought.
'I'm heart-broken not to have been able to serve you,' he said.
'You can help me to mount,' she answered.
And, before he quite knew how it was done, he had helped her to mount,
and she was galloping down the path. The firm grasp of her warm gloved
hand on his shoulder accompanied him to Saint-Graal. 'It's amazing how
she sticks in my mind,' he said. He really couldn't fix his attention
on any other subject. 'I wonder who the deuce she is. She's giving me
my money's worth in walking. That business of the strap was really
brazen. Still, one mustn't quarrel with the means if one desires the
end. I hope she _isn't_ that sort.'
VII.
On the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth days, she passed him with a bow
and a good-morning.
'This is too much!' he groaned, in the silence of his chamber. 'She's
doing it with malice. I'll not be trifled with. I--I'll do something
desperate. I'll pretend to faint, and she'll have to get down and
bandage up my wounds.'
On the thirteenth day, as they met, she stopped her horse.
'You're at least typically English in one respect,' she said.
'Oh, unkind lady! To announce it to me in this sudden way. Then my
life's a failure.'
'I mean in your fondness for long walks.'
'Ah, then you're totally in error. I hate long walks.'
'But it's a good ten kilometres to and from your house; and you do it
every morning.'
'That's only because there aren't any omnibuses or cabs or things.
And' (he reminded himself that if she was that sort, he might be bold)
'I'm irresistibly attracted here.'
'It's very pretty,' she admitted, and rode on.
He looked after her, grinding his teeth. _Was_ she that sort? 'One
never can tell. Her face is so fine--so noble even.'
The next day, 'Yes, I suppose it's very pretty. But I wasn't thinking
of Nature,' he informed her, as she approached.
She drew up.
'Oh, it has its human interest too, no doubt.' She glanced in the
direction of the Ch�teau of Granjolaye.
'The Queen,' said he. 'But one never sees her.'
'That adds the charm of mystery, don't you feel? To think of that poor
young exiled woman, after so grand a beginning, ending so
desolately--shut up alone in her mysterious castle! It's like a
legend.'
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