I hope you will wear the most extravagant and holiday clothes--white,
and very ruffled and thin, would be nice, with emeralds."
"It's a good thing I have a lot of money," she observed; "you have
some, of course, but it wouldn't begin to support your ambitions."
"I don't even care which of us has it," he admitted; "so it's there. A
year ago I should have looked pained and insisted that I couldn't
accept, nor allow you to use, your own money. I don't exactly have to
ask you for a taxi-cab fare, though, luckily; but if you did bring the
emeralds I saw you wearing in New York don't throw them away on my
account."
"They are here," she assured him. "William gave them to me when we were
married."
"Splendid, together with Fanny's pearl," he replied placidly; "I was
afraid they had been a legacy from your mother. I much prefer them to
have been William's--it will give them such a Utopian sparkle."
When Savina had gone, in a long brightly-painted car summoned from the
line backed at the plaza's edge, Lee Randon returned to their room. The
heat of the day, approaching noon, the ceaseless noise of Havana rose
diffused to the balcony where he sat until the circling sunlight forced
him to move inside. What amazing comfort! A curiously impersonal
admiration for Savina grew with the understanding of her exceptionally
perceptive being. She was what, above all else, he would have chosen
for a companion: her extraordinary feeling was sheathed, tempered, in
the satin of a faultless aesthetic sense; the delicacy of her body was
resembled by the fineness of her feminine mind; she was entirely,
deliciously, decorative.
Pages:
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307