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Duncan, Sara Jeannette, 1862?-1922

"Hilda A Story of Calcutta"

"
Hilda stabbed a great crisp fallen teak leaf with her parasol, and spent
the grimness of this in twirling it.
"One can so easily get an affair of one's own out of all
proportion--" Duff said. "And I should be sorry--do you really want me
to talk about this?"
"Don't be stupid. Of course."
He took her permission with plain avidity.
"Well, it grew plain to Miss Livingstone, as it will to everybody else
who knows or cares," he said; "I mean chiefly Laura's tremendous
desirability. Her beauty would go for something anywhere, but I don't
want to insist on that. What marks her even more is the wonderful purity
and transparency of her mind; one doesn't find it often now, women's
souls are so clouded with knowledge. I think that sort of thing appeals
especially to me because my own design isn't in the least esoteric. I'm
only a man. Then she was so ludicrously out of her element. A creature
like that should be surrounded by the softest refinement in her daily
life. That was my chance. I could offer her her place. It's not much to
counterbalance what she is, but it helps, roughly speaking, to equalise
matters."
Hilda looked at him with sudden critical interest, missing an emanation
from him.


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