What had she so nearly said? She had almost spoken a name—and quickly withdrawn it. . He rested on one elbow. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. I am not of the canaille, but a bourgeois. She hated to leave; for this hour would be the most interesting. He had studied alchemy and astronomy, was a capable painter, and even wrote music. Because Leonardo, he made me see that I can be someone. She looked up and said, a little breathlessly, “I’m sorry, aunt, but I don’t think I can. I fancy that this is a little more than playing at Bohemianism. A wedding procession turned the corner. Vorsack sauntered into the room, sporting her usual toothy thin254 lipped grin. .
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