Would she take an interest
in him, Frank Cowperwood? Would a woman like this surrender on any
basis outside of divorce and marriage? He wondered. On her part, Mrs.
Sohlberg was thinking what a forceful man Cowperwood was, and how close
he had stayed by her. She felt his interest, for she had often seen
these symptoms in other men and knew what they meant. She knew the
pull of her own beauty, and, while she heightened it as artfully as she
dared, yet she kept aloof, too, feeling that she had never met any one
as yet for whom it was worth while to be different. But Cowperwood--he
needed someone more soulful than Aileen, she thought.

Chapter XV

A New Affection

The growth of a relationship between Cowperwood and Rita Sohlberg was
fostered quite accidentally by Aileen, who took a foolishly sentimental
interest in Harold which yet was not based on anything of real meaning.
She liked him because he was a superlatively gracious, flattering,
emotional man where women--pretty women--were concerned. She had some
idea she could send him pupils, and, anyhow, it was nice to call at the
Sohlberg studio. Her social life was dull enough as it was. So she
went, and Cowperwood, mindful of Mrs. Sohlberg, came also. Shrewd to
the point of destruction, he encouraged Aileen in her interest in them.
He suggested that she invite them to dinner, that they give a musical
at which Sohlberg could play and be paid. There were boxes at the
theaters, tickets for concerts sent, invitations to drive Sundays or
other days.

The very chemistry of life seems to play into the hands of a situation
of this kind. Once Cowperwood was thinking vividly, forcefully, of
her, Rita began to think in like manner of him. Hourly he grew more
attractive, a strange, gripping man. Beset by his mood, she was having
the devil's own time with her conscience. Not that anything had been
said as yet, but he was investing her, gradually beleaguering her,
sealing up, apparently, one avenue after another of escape. One
Thursday afternoon, when neither Aileen nor he could attend the
Sohlberg tea, Mrs. Sohlberg received a magnificent bunch of Jacqueminot
roses. "For your nooks and corners," said a card. She knew well
enough from whom it came and what it was worth. There were all of
fifty dollars worth of roses. It gave her breath of a world of money
that she had never known. Daily she saw the name of his banking and
brokerage firm advertised in the paper