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Updated: June 15, 2025
Sabine came and sat upon a stool beside her, and took and caressed her hand. "Something has hurt you, dearest," she cooed, rubbing Moravia's arm with her velvet cheek. "What is it?" "No, I am not hurt I am only cynical. I despise our sex most of us are just primitive savages underneath at one time of our lives or another we adore the strong man who captures us in spite of all our struggles!"
She told him that she had to settle her hair, which had become disarranged, and saying he would wait for her he left her at the foot of the smaller staircase, which led in a roundabout way to her and Moravia's rooms. She had not wanted to pass through the great hall where quantities of people were sitting out.
She thought of these things now, as Simone left the room with the blue case, but she put from her all disturbing remembrances on her journey to Paris, and rushed into Moravia's arms, who was waiting for her in her palatial apartment in the Avenue du Bois; they really loved one another, these two women, as few sisters do.
Then it struck her for the first time that he was a very handsome young man quite the Prince Charming of the girls' dreams. A thousand times finer than Moravia's Italian prince with whom for her part she had been horribly disappointed when she had seen his photograph. Only it was too silly to consider this one in that light, since he wasn't really going to be hers only a means to an end.
How shall I ever be able to live up to being the ideal creature he thinks that I am?" and Sabine gave a forced laugh. "You are not a bad sort, you know," the Princess told her. "A man would be very hard to please if he was not quite satisfied with you!" Moravia's own pain about the whole thing never clouded her sense of justice.
She had quail and salad and a wonderful ice better than any, even on the day of the holiday for Moravia's wedding far away in Rome; and there were marrons glacés, too, and other divine bon-bons and strawberries and cream! She had never enjoyed herself so much in her whole life. Her perfectly innocent prattle enchanted Michael more and more with its touches of shrewd common sense.
He felt that he would willingly drop over the causeway bridge into the boiling sea, and finish all the pain. He saw Moravia's blue velvet dress in the distance down the road when he left the lodge gates, and he fled into the garden; he must be alone but she had seen him go, and knew that another crisis had come and that she must conquer this time also.
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