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Updated: June 9, 2025
Two days and six hours only since she had stood there above her pansies; since, at this very spot, Rosek had kissed her throat! Slipping her hand through Winton's arm, she said: "Dad, please don't make anything of that kiss. He couldn't help himself, I suppose. What does it matter, too?" A moment later Rosek entered. Before she could speak, Winton was saying: "Thank you for letting us know, sir.
He was in one of his boy-out-of-school moods, elated by applause, mimicking her old master, the idolatries of his worshippers, Rosek, the girl dancer's upturned expectant lips. And he slipped his arm round Gyp in the cab, crushing her against him and sniffing at her cheek as if she had been a flower. Rosek had the first floor of an old-time mansion in Russell Square.
In the corridor, Rosek, in attendance, said: "Why not this evening? Come with Gustav to my rooms. She shall dance to us, and we will all have supper. She admires you, Madame Gyp. She will love to dance for you." Gyp longed for the simple brutality to say: "I don't want to come. I don't like you!" But all she could manage was: "Thank you. I I will ask Gustav."
The sound of footsteps on the gravel made her turn. Rosek was coming from the drawing-room window. Rather startled, Gyp looked at him over her shoulder. What had brought him at eleven o'clock in the morning? He came up to her, bowed, and said: "I came to see Gustav. He's not up yet, it seems. I thought I would speak to you first. Can we talk?"
I only brought cream, and flame-colour; they go so beautifully with black." She threw back her kimono for Gyp to inspect her dress a girdled cream-coloured shift, which made her ivory arms and neck seem more than ever dazzling; and her mouth opened, as if for a sugar-plum of praise. Then, lowering her voice, she murmured: "Do you know, I'm rather afraid of Count Rosek." "Why?"
They were having supper after the theatre in their restaurant, when, in a mirror she saw three people come in and take seats at a table a little way behind Fiorsen, Rosek, and Daphne Wing! How she managed to show no sign she never knew!
Gyp never really believed that Daphne Wing was of the past. Her sceptical instinct told her that what Fiorsen might honestly mean to do was very different from what he would do under stress of opportunity carefully put within his reach. Since her return, Rosek had begun to come again, very careful not to repeat his mistake, but not deceiving her at all.
But but ask if he will come and have some lunch, and get a bottle of hock up, please." In the few seconds before her visitor appeared, Gyp experienced the sort of excitement one has entering a field where a bull is grazing. But not even his severest critics could accuse Rosek of want of tact. He had hoped to see Gustav, but it was charming of her to give him lunch a great delight!
Her pride rushed up in her. How could she ask this girl anything? She choked back that feeling, and said stonily: "Do you remember my baby? No, of course; you never saw her. HE and Count Rosek have just taken her away from me." Daphne Wing convulsively squeezed the hand of which she had possessed herself. "Oh, what a wicked thing! When?" "Yesterday afternoon."
Fiorsen, who had leaped out of bed, put his hand to his head. The cursed fellow! Cursed be every one of them the father and the girl, Rosek and all the other sharks! He went out on to the landing. The house was quite still below. Rosek had gone good riddance! He called, "Gyp!" No answer. He went into her room. Its superlative daintiness struck his fancy. A scent of cyclamen!
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