For the present, he felt cool, almost
indifferent, to both his new acquaintances. He had asked and
obtained leave to write to Maud Enderby; what on earth could he
write about? How could he address her? He had promised to go and see
Ida Starr, on a most impracticable footing. Was it not almost
certain that, before the day came round, her caprice would have
vanished, and his reception would prove anything but a flattering
one? The feelings which both girls had at the time excited in him
seemed artificial; in his present mood he in vain tried to
resuscitate his interest either in the one or the other. It was as
though he had over-exerted his emotional powers, and they lay
exhausted. Weariness was the only reality of which he was conscious.
He must turn his mind to other things. Having breakfasted, he
remembered what day it was, and presently took down a volume of his
Goethe, opening at the Easter morning scene in Faust, favourite
reading with him. This inspired him with a desire to go into the
open air; it was a bright day, and there would be life in the
streets. Just as he began to prepare himself for walking, there came
a knock at his door, and Julian Casti entered.
"Halloa!" Waymark cried.
Pages:
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184