And in the case of Alicia no man
was likely to forego them. She was really a little too unscrupulous!
"What I did it for? He was so nice and good-looking!"
"And there was nobody else?"
"Nobody. Home was a desert."
"H'm!" said Marsham. "Is he broken-hearted?"
Alicia shrugged her shoulders a little.
"I don't think so. I write him such charming letters. It is all
simmering down beautifully."
Marsham moved restlessly to and fro, first putting down a lamp, then
fidgeting with an evening paper. Alicia never failed to stir in him the
instinct of sex, in its combative and critical form; and hostile as he
believed he was to her, her advent had certainly shaken him out of his
depression.
She meanwhile watched him with her teasing eyes, apparently enjoying his
disapproval.
"I know exactly what you are thinking," she said, presently.
"I doubt it."
"Heartless coquette!" she said, mimicking his voice. "Never mind--her
turn will come presently!"
"You don't allow my thoughts much originality."
"Why should I? Confess!--you did think that?"
Her small white teeth flashed in the smile she gave him. There was an
exuberance of life and spirits about her that was rather disarming.
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