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- Стр. 64/332
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"
Very
nize
ov
you
,
I
'm
sure
,
"
Sohlberg
replied
,
with
his
sweety
drawl
.
"
Such
a
nize
plaze
you
have
here
--
all
these
loafly
books
,
and
jade
,
and
glass
.
"
He
had
an
unctuous
,
yielding
way
which
was
charming
,
Aileen
thought
.
He
should
have
a
strong
,
rich
woman
to
take
care
of
him
.
He
was
like
a
stormy
,
erratic
boy
.
After
refreshments
were
served
Sohlberg
played
.
Cowperwood
was
interested
by
his
standing
figure
--
his
eyes
,
his
hair
--
but
he
was
much
more
interested
in
Mrs.
Sohlberg
,
to
whom
his
look
constantly
strayed
.
He
watched
her
hands
on
the
keys
,
her
fingers
,
the
dimples
at
her
elbows
.
What
an
adorable
mouth
,
he
thought
,
and
what
light
,
fluffy
hair
!
But
,
more
than
that
,
there
was
a
mood
that
invested
it
all
--
a
bit
of
tinted
color
of
the
mind
that
reached
him
and
made
him
sympathetic
and
even
passionate
toward
her
.
She
was
the
kind
of
woman
he
would
like
.
She
was
somewhat
like
Aileen
when
she
was
six
years
younger
(
Aileen
was
now
thirty-three
,
and
Mrs.
Sohlberg
twenty-seven
)
,
only
Aileen
had
always
been
more
robust
,
more
vigorous
,
less
nebulous
.
Mrs.
Sohlberg
(
he
finally
thought
it
out
for
himself
)
was
like
the
rich
tinted
interior
of
a
South
Sea
oyster-shell
--
warm
,
colorful
,
delicate
.
But
there
was
something
firm
there
,
too
.
Nowhere
in
society
had
he
seen
any
one
like
her
.
She
was
rapt
,
sensuous
,
beautiful
.
He
kept
his
eyes
on
her
until
finally
she
became
aware
that
he
was
gazing
at
her
,
and
then
she
looked
back
at
him
in
an
arch
,
smiling
way
,
fixing
her
mouth
in
a
potent
line
.
Cowperwood
was
captivated
.
Was
she
vulnerable
?
was
his
one
thought
.
Did
that
faint
smile
mean
anything
more
than
mere
social
complaisance
?
Probably
not
,
but
could
not
a
temperament
so
rich
and
full
be
awakened
to
feeling
by
his
own
?
When
she
was
through
playing
he
took
occasion
to
say
:
"
Would
n't
you
like
to
stroll
into
the
gallery
?
Are
you
fond
of
pictures
?
"
He
gave
her
his
arm
.
"
Now
,
you
know
,
"
said
Mrs.
Sohlberg
,
quaintly
--
very
captivatingly
,
he
thought
,
because
she
was
so
pretty
--
"
at
one
time
I
thought
I
was
going
to
be
a
great
artist
.
Is
n't
that
funny
!
I
sent
my
father
one
of
my
drawings
inscribed
'
to
whom
I
owe
it
all
.
'
You
would
have
to
see
the
drawing
to
see
how
funny
that
is
.
"
She
laughed
softly
.
Cowperwood
responded
with
a
refreshed
interest
in
life
.
Her
laugh
was
as
grateful
to
him
as
a
summer
wind
.
"
See
,
"
he
said
,
gently
,
as
they
entered
the
room
aglow
with
the
soft
light
produced
by
guttered
jets
,
"
here
is
a
Luini
bought
last
winter
.
"
It
was
"
The
Mystic
Marriage
of
St.
Catharine
.
"
He
paused
while
she
surveyed
the
rapt
expression
of
the
attenuated
saint
.
"
And
here
,
"
he
went
on
,
"
is
my
greatest
find
so
far
.
"
They
were
before
the
crafty
countenance
of
Caesar
Borgia
painted
by
Pinturrichio
.
"
What
a
strange
face
!
"
commented
Mrs.
Sohlberg
,
naively
.
"
I
did
n't
know
any
one
had
ever
painted
him
.
He
looks
somewhat
like
an
artist
himself
,
does
n't
he
?
"
She
had
never
read
the
involved
and
quite
Satanic
history
of
this
man
,
and
only
knew
the
rumor
of
his
crimes
and
machinations
.
"
He
was
,
in
his
way
,
"
smiled
Cowperwood
,
who
had
had
an
outline
of
his
life
,
and
that
of
his
father
,
Pope
Alexander
VI.
,
furnished
him
at
the
time
of
the
purchase
.
Only
so
recently
had
his
interest
in
Caesar
Borgia
begun
.
Mrs.
Sohlberg
scarcely
gathered
the
sly
humor
of
it
.
