But what passion was here! What force! He had somehow never even dreamt
such feelings dwelt in women--or, indeed, in any human creatures out of
sensational books. Yet, gazing there at her, he dimly understood that in
himself, too, they could rise, were another to take her from him. Yes, he
could kill in suchlike case.
They were silent for some moments, each vibrating with passionate
thoughts; and then the lady leant over and laid her cheek against the
sleeve of his coat.
"Heart of my heart," she said, "I frighten and ruffle you. The women of
your country are sweet and soft, but they know not the passion I know, my
Paul--the fierceness and madness of love--"
Paul clasped her in his arms.
"It makes me worship you more, my Queen," he said. "Englishwomen would
seem like wax dolls now beside you and your exquisite face--they will
never again be anything but shadows in my life. It can only hold you, the
one goddess and Queen."
Her eyes were suffused with a mist of tenderness, the passion was gone;
her head was thrown back against his breast, when suddenly her hand
inadvertently touched against the pocket where Dmitry's pistol lay. She
started violently, and before he could divine her purpose she snatched the
weapon out, and held it up to the light.
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