Only last
night I had told her that Paris had no attractions for me. I had said
that I didn't care to see Maxine de Renzie: yet here I was on the way to
see her, and here was Di discovering me in the act of going to see, her.
Of course I could lie; and I suppose some men, even men of honour, would
think it justifiable as well as wise to lie in such a case, when
explanations were forbidden. But I couldn't lie to a girl I loved as I
love Diana Forrest. It would have sickened me with life and with myself
to do it: and it was with the knowledge in my mind that I could not and
would not lie, that I had to greet her with a conventional "Good
morning."
"Are you going out of town?" I asked, with my hat off for her and for
the Imp, whose strange little weazened face I now saw looking over my
tall love's shoulders. It had never before struck me that the Imp was
like a cat; but suddenly the resemblance struck me--something in the
poor little creature's expression, it must have been, or in her greenish
grey eyes which seemed at that moment to concentrate all the knowledge
of old and evil things that has ever come into the world since the days
of the early Egyptians--when a cat was worshipped.
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