She's adorable, my mother . . . If it had not been for her . . .
And your father won't let you go away? How, for the moment, she worshipped Gareth's father!
No.
Well, Gareth . . . I think I'm old enough to call you Gareth . . . then make the best of it. Come to see me as often as you like. I'm not going away for a long time. Perhaps, I'll plan to live here. Let's make the best of it between us. You amuse me and I will try to amuse you!
Countess!
Begin. You'll soon see.
Begin?
Anything. We'll talk about the sky at Rimini, or the Winter Palace at St. Petersburg, or .
There's so much I want to ask about, but that wont amuse you; that will only amuse me.
You don't know me at all, Gareth. Anybody who is sympathetic amuses me . . . and you are sympathetic.
You're sympathetic to me, too.
Again the flame of a hungry tiger flashed in the Countess's eye. She was entirely unaccustomed to self-leashing, but she contrived to hold herself in check.
Let's make some lemonade, she suggested hurriedly. It's so warm, and I'm thirsty. The servants have gone to bed.
She led the way through the dimly lit house into
