She leant back with her sunshade over her shoulder, and Stafford, as he
slipped off his blazer and rowed out towards the centre of the lake,
looked at her with unconscious admiration. She was simply, perfectly
dressed in a yachting costume of white and pale-blue, which set off to
the fullest advantage her exquisite complexion and her red-gold hair.
But it was admiration of the coldest kind, for even at that moment he
was thinking of the girl in the well-worn habit, the girl he loved with
a passion that made his slightest thought of her a psalm of worship.
And Maude, though she appeared half asleep, like a beautiful wild
animal basking in the warmth of the sun, glanced at him now and again
and noted the strength and grace of his figure, the almost Grecian
contour of the handsome face. She had made her wager with Howard on the
spur of the moment, prompted by the vanity of a woman piqued by the
story of Stafford's indifference to her sex; but as she looked at him
she wondered how a woman would feel if she fell in love with him. But
she had no fears for herself; there was a coldness in her nature which
had hitherto guarded her from the fever which men call love, and she
thought herself quite secure.
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