Durlacher had well
grounded her. She wrapped herself in the simplicity of a girl whose
eyes have scarcely opened to a knowledge of life and whose inner
consciousness is as yet untouched.
If she had given him any impression of a want of innocence the day
before when they discussed the case in the divorce court which he
had won, she now swept it from his mind. He found her ingenuousness
charming. Her eyes helped her. They were big, grey, wide-open like
a child's. He found himself looking interestedly for the simple
questions that they turned upon him. In the box at the theatre, they
leant back in their seats and talked in undertones through the acts
and Mrs. Durlacher, leaning out to watch the piece, heard not a word
that the actors said. Her ears were strained to catch the progress
of their conversation. During the intervals, she levelled her
glasses at the house and was apparently too pre-occupied to interrupt
their enjoyment. In the interval that followed the second act, her
glasses, roaming aimlessly across the stalls, became riveted to her
eyes. After a moment, she looked hastily away, then stealthily looked
again. Finally she turned round to her brother, curbing the surprise
which, notwithstanding her efforts, forced itself into the
expression of her face.
Pages:
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397