or the deepest purpose. Women worthy of the name were like
that. They were very wonderful. They rose to the occasion and
sometimes above the occasion when things were bound to occur that
would be comic or tragic (as it happened) but generally charged
with trouble even to innocent beholders. D'Alcacer thought these
thoughts without bitterness and even without irony. With his
half-secret social reputation as a man of one great passion in a
world of mere intrigues he liked all women. He liked them in
their sentiment and in their hardness, in the tragic character of
their foolish or clever impulses, at which he looked with a sort
of tender seriousness.
He didn't take a favourable view of the position but he
considered Mrs. Travers' statement about operas and dresses as a
warning to keep off the subject. For this reason he remained
silent through the meal.
When the bustle of clearing away the table was over he strolled
toward Mrs. Travers and remarked very quietly:
"I think that in keeping away from us this evening the Man of
Fate was well inspired. We dined like a lot of Carthusian monks."
"You allude to our silence?"
"It was most scrupulous. If we had taken an eternal vow we
couldn't have kept it better."
"Dyilai：
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