I've always had an idea that Englishmen weren't nearly as
afraid of intellectual women as American men are."
"That's true enough. But I doubt if there are any men more susceptible to
beauty, or quite as lustful after it, no matter how romantic they may think
they are feeling. I've talked to a good many of them in the past four
years, and for six months I was in charge of a convalescent hospital in
Kent. I think I've pretty thoroughly plumbed the Englishman. They found me
sympathetic all right, forgot their racial shyness and inadvertently gave
me much valuable material. But I saw no indication that I made any sex
appeal to them whatever."
"Not one? Not ever?"
Gora gave a slight withdrawing movement as if something sacred had been
touched. But she answered: "Oh...some day I may have something to tell
you....You said much the same thing to me a little while ago. Tell me
now."
Alexina turned over on her elbow to beat up her pillows. Then she answered
lightly but firmly: "Not unless you promise to do likewise. Mine is such a
little thing anyhow. I know by the expression of your face--just now--that,
yours is the real thing. Is he in Paris?"
"I'm...not sure....Yes, there is something...the conditions are very
peculiar...not at all what you think...there is so much more to it....No, I
don't think I can tell you."
A fortnight ago Alexina could have lifted her eyes and uttered Gathbroke's
name as if groping through a jungle of memories.
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