Her last
words lingered in his mind. He was to talk to her about art! A
fleeting vision of the youth in the yellow oilskins mocked him.
He remembered his morning's tramp and the broken-down motor-car
under the trees. The significance of these things was beginning
to take shape in his mind. He resumed his seat, a little dazed.
CHAPTER V
Maltenby was one of those old-fashioned houses where the port is
served as a lay sacrament and the call of the drawing-room is
responded to tardily. After the departure of the women, Doctor
Lennard drew his chair up to Julian's.
"An interesting face, your dinner companion's," he remarked.
"They tell me that she is a very brilliant young lady."
"She certainly has gifts," acknowledged Julian.
"I watched her whilst she was talking to you," the Oxford don
continued. "She is one of those rare young women whose undoubted
beauty is put into the background by their general attractiveness.
Lady Maltenby was telling me fragments of her history. It appears
that she is thinking of giving up her artistic career for some
sort of sociological work."
"It is curious," Julian reflected, "how the cause of the people
has always appealed to gifted Russians. England, for instance,
produces no real democrats of genius. Russia seems to claim a
monopoly of them."
"There is nothing so stimulating as a sense of injustice for
bringing the best out of a man or woman," Doctor Lennard pointed
out. "Russia, of course, for many years has been shamefully
misgoverned.
Pages:
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61