ught much. To Don she had refrained from speaking of this, for it
seemed to savour of that feminine jealousy which regards with suspicious
disfavour any living creature, man, woman or dog, near to a beloved
object. But she was convinced that Thessaly deliberately avoided her and
she suspected that he influenced Paul unfavourably, although of this
latter fact she had practically no evidence.

Similar doubts respecting the motive which might be attributed to her
had prevented Flamby from telling Don why she wished to keep in touch
with Orlando James. Paul's philosophy was a broad one, and imposed few
trammels upon social intercourse between the sexes. He regarded
early-Victorian prudery with frank horror, and counted the narrowness of
middle-class suburban life as directly traceable to this tainted spring.
Don had once declared a suburban Sunday to be "hell's delight. _Rock of
Ages_," he said, "(arrangement for piano) has more to answer for than
the entire ritual of the Black Mass." Paul applauded breadth of outlook;
nevertheless Flamby doubted if Paul would have approved certain
clandestine visits to James's studio. It was Flamby's discovery of the
identity of the tall lady, closely veiled, whom she had seen one night
descending from a cab and hurrying under the arch into the little
courtyard of the faun, which first had awakened that indefinite fear
whereof she had spoken to Don. On several successive evenings she had
invented reasons for remaining late at Chauvin's, and at last had been
rewarded by seeing the veiled visitor admitted to James's studio. The
light shining out upon her face had revealed the features of Yvonne
Mario. Flamby had spied and had counted her espionage justified. Any
other woman in like circumstances would have spied also, justified or
otherwise. For women in some respects are wiser than men, and he who
counts woman supine has viewed his world awry; but the true deeps of a
woman's soul may only be stirred by passion. Honour and those other
temporal shadows at whose beck men lay down life leave women unstirred.
What man of honour would tear open a letter addressed to another, though
he suspected it to contain his death-warrant? What woman, in like case,
would hesitate to steam it?

VI

High Mass in Westminster Cathedral was about to conclude. The air was
heavy with incense, and the organ notes seemed to float upon it
buoyantly, rebounding from marble wall and Byzantine pillar to remain
indefi