Moths by Ouida — page 217: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

MOTHS. 213 ‘ A ree thousand things that are not, andynever will be, ue | | For his own part, the world had taught him very well how te _ conceal his feelings when he chose, and in his caressing grace, _ that was much the same to all women, he had an impenetrable - mask. But Verehad none. Vere was transparent as only a per- fectly innocent creature ever is; and the merciless eyes of Jeanne de Sonnaz were on them. “You know the Princess Zouroff, I think?” said the latter negligently. ‘‘ Was it Vera, or was it myself, that you serenaded so beautifully? An indiscreet question; but you know I am ale ways indiscreet.” ** Madame,” said Correze, whilst he bowed. before Vere, and then turned to answer histormentor, ‘‘ truth is always costly, but itis always best. At the risk of your displeasure, I must confess that I sang on no other sentiment than perfect exasperation with the chapelle du musique. That I serenaded yourself and Princess Zourott was an accidental honor that I scarcely deserved to en> joy.” : ‘‘ What a pretty falsehood, and how nicely turned!” thought Madame de Sonnaz, as she pursued persistently, ‘*‘ Then Vera was right: she said you did not know we were here. Nevertheless, you and she are old friends, I think, surely?” Correze had taken his seat between them; he was close to the duchess: there was a little distance between him and Vere, whose eyes were always on the flowers that employed her fingers. | ‘‘T knew Madame la Princesse a little, very little, when she was a child,” he said, with a smile. ‘‘ Neither acquaintances - hor court presentations before marriage count after it, I fear. Princess Vera at that time had a sailor hat and no‘shoes: you see it is a very Jong time,ago.” Vere looked up a moment and smiled. Then the smile died away into a great sadness. It was long ago, indeed, so long that it seemed to her as though a whole lifetime severed her, the wife of Sergius Zouroff, from the happy child thai had taken the rose from the hand of Correze. it ‘‘No shoes! This is interesting. I suppose they were dredg- ing, and she had lost herself. Tell me all about it,” said the high voice of Duchesse Jeanne; and Correze told her in his own airy graceful fashion, and made her laugh. | ‘Tf I did not tell her something, God knows what she would conjecture,” he said to himself; and when he sat down to the breakfast-table beside ithe open windows, and made himself charming in a gay and witty way that made the duchess think to herself, ‘‘ She is in love, but he is not.” _ Vere sat almost silent. She could not imitate his tnsouciance his gayety, his abandonment to the immediate hour, the skill with which he made apparent frankness serve as an entire con- cealment. She sat in a sort of trance, only hearing the rich sweet cadence of the voice whose mere laughter was music and whose mere guurmur was a caress. | ; | The sunshine and the green water glancing through the spaces — “comicbooks.co ° , : Aaya? : ; » F . : A ure : A 4.) \ Me y ‘ . d \ at ¢ 4 o! : ° yy i i / . bed? 1 , red 7 ¢ , v4 - 5 : a = < é / 2 ai A 4 4 . - 4 a - . r f if ’ 4 \ mA, hy a "\, & ay eh Ee ‘ rf r , { mslaies Vis i