That did not thwart him. He admired her the
more for it; wanted her the more.
When they reached her rooms and, taking off her hat, she seated
herself at the piano, creating in the susceptibility of his mind a
greater sense of the intimacy of their relations, he stood at the
other side of the room watching her, content to let his anticipations
slowly drift upon the quiet stream of events to the ultimate cataract
of their realization.
This is the true nature of the sensualist. Woman or man, whatever
sex, you may know them by their feline delight in the procrastination
of the moment. It is an evolution of the intellect. The raw, unbridled
forces of nature have no dealings with such as these. They are people
of pleasure. They have taken the gifts that Nature has offered and,
with the subtle cunning of their minds, have torn the inviolable
parchment of her laws to shreds before her face. With no inheritance
of the intellect, Devenish possessed all the other qualities.
Sensualist as he was, with that strain of refinement induced by the
easy circumstances of life, the paid women disgusted him. Of mere
animalism, he had none. Here in this widest essential, his nature
marked its contrast with Traill.
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