en the vision
of that vast theatre was too fascinating for me to abandon. His
excuses were always plausible. Now he had made some terribly bad
investment, now a publisher had gone bankrupt, now the sales of his
books had fallen tremendously. Besides, he kept complaining bitterly
that he was being forced to suppress his genius and individuality and
to work for money. Just as he was waiting patiently, so must I wait
patiently. He was to write me my great piece, and I was to interpret
it. He bought this house for me and had this room rebuilt to suit my
ideas, so that the spirit in me should be nourished by a congenial
environment. By sitting here each day and meditating, I have
ministered to my sacred moods and I have kept pure the essence of the
ages which I am to revive for the modern world. Thus the years have
not been wasted. I have matured. I am confident my powers have
increased, and I have never felt more eager to exercise them than now.
Let me but appear in a suitable role and both fame and fortune are
assured to me, for I shall easily eclipse every living actress.

"Of course, I have recognised now that Robert has been playing me
false, at least of late. I should not like to think that he did not
really have those ideas in the first years, but I realise now he has
abandoned them and hasn't the courage to confess the truth. Of course,
he says that his year's finances have all gone wrong again, and that
he had seriously underestimated the capital necessary for the
undertaking.

"I am not a prisoner, of course. I have always had perfect liberty,
and I engaged the maids myself. They are too well paid not to be
attached to me. Robert is supposed to be my husband. Of course, they
know he isn't. Altogether, I have not been so very unhappy here. This
room has been a great comfort to me, and Robert and I have always got
on well together. But now we must part. He will miss me after all this
time, but there is no reason why we should not part in peace."

She related all this with the greatest naivete, so that her absolute
faith in herself, her genius, and her mission, did not astonish him.
The words seemed to flow naturally from the personality.

He was aware she had scarcely given him a biography, but he liked to
take her as a mystical figure floating out of a sort of nebula. Such
personal details as might have been relatable of any other woman he
did not want to know; they would have interfered with this purely
artist