"The truth is," she returned, "that I haven't seen the exhibition. It's
impossible to see pictures in such a crowd, don't you think? I know
Arthur has worked very hard. I've hardly seen him this week."
"He has a most tremendous power of accomplishing what he undertakes,"
Herman said heartily. "But tell me about yourself. You're looking
tired."
"It is the time of year to look tired. I believe I am feeling a little
anxious that spring should arrive."
She was struggling in her thoughts for a means of preventing the
discovery, which it seemed to her must be inevitable the moment she
ceased to engage Herman in conversation and he turned away. Over his
shoulder she could see the beautiful, sensuous _Fatima_ lying with long
sleek limbs amid bright-hued cushions. Now that she knew the truth, she
could see Ninitta in every line, and her whole soul rose in indignant
protest. It was her friend, the wife of this man she honored, who was
delivered up on the wall yonder to the curious eyes of all these
people. The stinging blush of shame burned in Edith's cheeks, and, as
at this instant she turned to find her husband beside her, the glance
which darted from her eyes to his was one of righteous scorn and
indignation.
His wife's burning look showed Arthur that she knew; and, reflecting
quickly, he decided that Herman did not. It was characteristic of him
that he instantly chose the boldest policy.
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