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A rush of feeling at remembering that the same woman, before Manston's arrival, had just as frankly advocated Edward's claims, checked Cytherea's utterance for awhile. 'There, don't look at me like that, for Heaven's sake! said Miss Aldclyffe. 'You could almost kill a person by the force of reproach you can put into those eyes of yours, I verily believe.
'Yes I think I was once, she murmured. 'Aha! And were you ever kissed by a man? A pause. 'Well, were you? said Miss Aldclyffe, rather sharply. 'Don't press me to tell I can't indeed, I won't, madam! Miss Aldclyffe removed her arms from Cytherea's neck. ''Tis now with you as it is always with all girls, she said, in jealous and gloomy accents.
Her form was full and round, its voluptuous maturity standing out in strong contrast to the memory of Cytherea's lissom girlishness.
He found it utterly impossible to leave the spot. His mind was so intent upon the importance of meeting with Owen, and informing him of Cytherea's whereabouts, that he could not but fancy Owen might leave the station unobserved if he turned his back, and become lost to him in the streets of the town. The hour expired. Ten o'clock struck.
Everything in the place was the embodiment of decay: the fading red glare from the setting sun, which came in at the west window, emphasizing the end of the day and all its cheerful doings, the mildewed walls, the uneven paving-stones, the wormy pews, the sense of recent occupation, and the dank air of death which had gathered with the evening, would have made grave a lighter mood than Cytherea's was then.
Before Owen had spoken, Manston arose, and stepping past him closed the door. His face appeared harassed much more troubled than the slight circumstance which had as yet come to his knowledge seemed to account for. Manston could form no reason for Owen's presence, but intuitively linked it with Cytherea's seclusion. 'Altogether this is most unseemly, he said, 'whatever it may mean.
But he has not been there to-day; I have only had the head draughtsman with me. Young women have a habit, not noticeable in men, of putting on at a moment's notice the drama of whosoever's life they choose. Cytherea's interest was transferred from Mr. Gradfield to his representative. 'What sort of a man is he?
Here was an adventure from the gods a stubborn will to bend, the pride of a haughty young beauty to trail in the dust, her untamed heart to break if need be. The lust of the battle was on him already. She was a woman to dream about, "Sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, Or Cytherea's breath," he told himself exultantly as he slid from his horse and stood bowing before her.
Springrove attends to my gardening, the dog attends to robbers, and whenever there is a snake or toad to kill, Jane does it. 'How nice! It is better than living in a town. 'Far better. A town makes a cynic of me. The remark recalled, somewhat startlingly, to Cytherea's mind, that Edward had used those very words to herself one evening at Budmouth.
Any important idea may be compressed to a molecule by an unwonted crowding of others; and any small idea will expand to whatever length and breadth of vacuum the mind may be able to make over to it. Cytherea's world was tolerably vacant at this time, and the young architectural designer's image became very pervasive. The next evening this subject was again renewed.
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