..and he remembered...we had recalled the past vividly enough....
Why couldn't one of those instincts in which we are supposed to be prolific
have warned me?....Much fiction is like life!...Any heroine I could have
created would have had it...had more sense....I have botched the thing from
beginning to end."
She raised her head and stared at Alexina with somber eyes; the insane
light had died out of them. They took in every detail of that enhanced
beauty, of that inner flame, white hot, that made Alexina glow like a
transparent lamp.
She also recalled that she had watched her pack her bags...that pervenche
velvet gown...Alexina had described the quaint old salon....Her
imagination, flashed out that first interview with Gathbroke with a
tormenting conjuring of detail....
"Yon are one of the favorites of life," she admitted in her bitter despair.
"You have been given everything--"
"I drew Mortimer," Alexina reminded her.
"True. But you dusted him out of your life with an ease and a thoroughness
that has never been surpassed. Think what you might have drawn. No, you
are lucky, lucky! The prixes of life are for your sort. I am one of the
overlooked or the deliberately neglected. Not a fairy stood at my cradle.
All things have come to you unsought. Beauty. Birth. Position. Sufficient
wealth. Power over men and women. An enchanting personality. All the social
graces.
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