s judgment! He remembered
Hermione's half-concealed tragedy, which, of course, had been patent to
him in its uttermost nakedness. Even Vere had guessed something of
it. Do we ever really hide anything from every one? And yet each one
breathes mystery too. The assertive man is the last of fools. Of that at
least Artois just then felt certain.

If Vere should really have talent! He did not expect it, although he
had said that there was intellectual force in the girl. There was
intellectual force in Hermione, but she could not create. And Vere! He
smiled as he thought of her rush into the room with her hair streaming
down, of her shrieks of laughter over his absurdity. But she was full of
changes.

The door opened, and Vere came in holding some manuscript in her hand.
She had done up her hair while she had been away. When Artois saw that
he heaved himself up from the sofa.

"I must smoke," he said.

"Oh yes. I'll get the Khali Targas."

"No. I must have a pipe. And you prefer that, I know."

"Generally, but--you do look dreadfully as if you meant business when
you are smoking a pipe."

"I do mean business now."

He took his pipe from his pocket, filled it and lit it.

"Now then, Vere!" he said.

She came to sit down on the sofa.

He sat down beside her.

CHAPTER XII

More than an hour had passed. To Vere it had seemed like five minutes.
Her cheeks were hotly flushed. Her eyes shone. With hands that were
slightly trembling she gathered together her manuscripts, and carefully
arranged them in a neat packet and put a piece of ribbon round them,
tying it in a little bow. Meanwhile Artois, standing up, was knocking
the shreds of tobacco out of his pipe against the chimney-piece into his
hand. He carried them over to the window, dropped them out, then stood
for a minute looking at the sea.

"The evening calm is coming, Vere," he said, "bringing with it the
wonder of this world."

"Yes."

He heard a soft sigh behind him, and turned round.

"Why was that? Has dejection set in, then?"

"No, no."

"You know the Latin saying: 'Festina lente'? If you want to understand
how slowly you must hasten, look at me."

He had been going to add, "Look at these gray hairs," but he did not.
Just then he felt suddenly an invincible reluctance to call Vere's
attention to the signs of age apparent in him.

"I spoke to you about the admirable incentive of ambition," he
continued, after a moment. "But you must underst