chair and its wings obscure his eyes; I see only his dry mouth, puckered at the lip. ''The greatest phase of eros?'' he is saying. ''We have missed it, sir, by seventy years! The cynical, improbable fictions which pass for voluptuous literature nowadays I should be ashamed to show to the man that shoes my horse . . .''
I stifle a yawn, and Mr Rivers turns to me. I say, ''Forgive me Vf Rivers.''
He bows his head. ''Perhaps, you don''t care for your uncle''s sub ject.''
He still speaks in a murmur; and I am obliged to make my own voice rather low, by way of answer. ''I am my uncle''s secretary,'' I say ''The appeal of the subject is nothing to me.''
Again he bows. ''Well, perhaps,'' he says, while my uncle talks on ''It is only curious, to see a lady left cool and unmoved, by that which is designed to provoke heat, and motion.''
''But there are many ladies, I think, unmoved by that you speak of; and aren''t those who know the matter best, moved least?'' I catch his eye. ''I speak not from experience of the world, of course, but from my reading merely. But I should have said that—oh, even a priest would note a palling in his passion for the mysteries of his church, if put too often to the scrutiny of wafer and wine.''
He does not blink. At last he almost laughs.
''You are very uncommon, Miss Lilly''
I look away. ''So I understand.''
''Ah. Now your tone is a bitter one. Perhaps you think your education a sort of misfortune.''