f the
Russian.
Sarakoff greeted me with enthusiasm. He was wearing evening-dress with a
white waistcoat, and the fact perturbed me. I put my hat and stick in
the cloakroom.
"Who is coming?" I asked anxiously.
"Leonora," he whispered. "I only found out she was in London this
afternoon. I met her when I was strolling in the Park while you were
busy with your patients."
"But who is Leonora?" I asked. "And can I meet her in this state?"
"Oh, never mind about your dress. You are a busy doctor and she will
understand. Leonora is the most marvellous woman in the world. I intend
to make her marry me."
"Is she English?" I stammered.
He laughed.
"Little man, you look terrified, as usual. You are always terrified. It
is your habit. No, Leonora is not English. She is European. If you went
out into the world of amusement a little more--and it would be good for
you--you would know that she has the most exquisite voice in the history
of civilization. She transcends the nightingale because her body is
beautiful. She transcends the peacock because her voice is beautiful.
She is, in fact, worthy of every homage, and you will meet her in a
short time. Like all perfect things she is late."
He took out his watch and glanced at the door.
"You are an extraordinary person, Sarakoff," I observed, after watching
him a moment. "Will you answer me a rather intimate question?"
"Certainly."
"What precisely do you mean when you say you intend to make the charming
lady marry you?"
"Precisely what I say. She loves fame. So far I have been unsuccessful,
because she does not think I am famous enough."
"How do you intend to remedy that?"
He stared at me in amazement.
"Do you think that any people have ever been so famous as you and I will
be in a few days?"
I looked away and studied the bright throng of visitors in the hall.
"In a few days?" I asked. "Are you not a trifle optimistic? Don't you
think that it will take months before the possibilities and meaning of
the germ are properly realized?"
"Rubbish," exclaimed Sarakoff. "You are a confirmed pessimist. You are
impossible, Harden. You are a mass of doubts and apprehensions. Ah, here
is Leonora at last. Is she not marvellous?"
I looked towards the entrance. I saw a woman of medium height, very
fair, dressed in some soft clinging material of a pale primrose colour.
From a shoulder hung a red satin cloak. Round her neck was a string of
large pearls, and in
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