Irons had lighted upon the presence of Mrs.
Herman at the studio. He raged against himself, against chance, most of
all against the unmannerly and coarse-minded fellow who had forced
himself into the studio, and then persisted in imagining evil which had
never existed. He experienced all the acute anguish of finding himself
in the toils, and of the added sting from wounded vanity, since he felt
that he had been wanting in adroitness and presence of mind. It is to
be doubted if he did not suffer more than would have been the case had
the injurious suspicions of Irons been correct. To a vain man, it is
often harder to be entrapped through stupidity or awkwardness than
through crime.
Fenton realized well enough how impossible it was now to correct the
evil that had been done. He might have explained away the fact that
Ninitta had been his model, but his own bearing under the accusation
had produced an impression not to be eradicated. The wavering before
his eyes, for a single instant, of the will-o'-the-wisp fire of sudden
temptation had blinded him, so that he had been guilty of a cursed
piece of folly, which had put him at once in the power of Irons. He
knew enough of the latter to be pretty sure that he was capable of
keeping his threat to enlighten Herman concerning his wife's visit to
the studio, and disgrace in the eyes of Herman meant more than Arthur
dared to think.
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