Zuleika Dobson; Or, An Oxford Love Story
    Zuleika glanced comprehensively at the room, and the Duke gazed at the hearthrug. The landlady’s daughter clattered out with her freight. They were alone.     

       “How pretty!” said Zuleika. She was looking at his star of the Garter, which sparkled from a litter of books and papers on a small side-table.     

       “Yes,” he answered. “It is pretty, isn’t it?”      

       “Awfully pretty!” she rejoined.     

       This dialogue led them to another hollow pause. The Duke’s heart beat violently within him. Why had he not asked her to take the star and keep it as a gift? Too late now! Why could he not throw himself at her feet? Here were two beings, lovers of each other, with none by. And yet...     

       She was examining a water-colour on the wall, seemed to be absorbed by it. He watched her. She was even lovelier than he had remembered; or rather her loveliness had been, in some subtle way, transmuted. Something had given to her a graver, nobler beauty. Last night’s nymph had become the Madonna of this morning. Despite her dress, which was of a tremendous tartan, she diffused the pale authentic radiance of a spirituality most high, most simple. The Duke wondered where lay the change in her. He could not understand. Suddenly she turned to him, and he understood. No longer the black pearl and the pink, but two white pearls!... He thrilled to his heart’s core.     

       “I hope,” said Zuleika, “you aren’t awfully vexed with me for coming like this?”      

       “Not at all,” said the Duke. “I am delighted to see you.” How inadequate the words sounded, how formal and stupid!     

       “The fact is,” she continued, “I don’t know a soul in Oxford. And I thought perhaps you’d give me luncheon, and take me to see the boat-races. Will you?”      

       “I shall be charmed,” he said, pulling the bell-rope. Poor fool! he attributed the shade of disappointment on Zuleika’s face to the coldness of his tone. He would dispel that shade. He would avow himself. He would leave her no longer in this false position. So soon as he had told them about the meal, he would proclaim his passion.     

       The bell was answered by the landlady’s daughter. 
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