To have exchanged that homeward walk over the glistening earth, and under the clear rose and violet lights of the winter sunset, with that sudden rapturous discovery of the slender crescent of the new moon, for a ride with Mrs.Edes in her closed carriage with her silvery voice in his ear instead of the keen silence of the winter air, would have been torture.

Von Rosen wondered at himself for disliking Mrs.Edes in particular, whereas he disliked most women in general.

There was something about her feline motions instinct with swiftness, and concealed claws, and the half keen, half sleepy glances of her green-blue eyes, which irritated him beyond measure, and he was ashamed of being irritated.

It implied a power over him, and yet it was certainly not a physical power.

It was subtle and pertained to spirit.