DOI article:
Cross, Victoria: Theodora: a fragment
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.21805#0187
By Victoria Cross 183
“ Some perhaps,” returned Theodora, throwing her glance over
them. “ But a great many are not new.”
It struck me that she would not be a woman very easy to
deceive. Some men value a woman in proportion to the ease with
which they can impose upon her, but to me it is too much trouble
to deceive at all, so that the absence of that amiable quality did
not disquiet me. On the c.ontrary, the comprehensive, cynical,
and at the sarne time indulgent smile that came so readily to
Theodora’s lips charmed me more, because it was the promise of
even less trouble than a real or professed obtuseness.
“No,” I assented merely.
“Well, then ? ” asked Theodora, but without troubling to seek
a reply. “ How pretty they are and how curious ! this one, for
instance.” And she took up a blue silk zouave, covered with gold
embroidery, and worth perhaps about thirty pounds. “ This has
been a good deal worn. It is a Souvenir, I suppose ? ”
I nodded. With any other woman I was similarly anxious to
please I should have denied it, but with her I feit it did not
matter.
“Too sacred perhaps, then, for me to put on ? ” she asked with
her hand in the collar, and smiling derisively.
“ Oh dear no ! ” I said, “not at all. Put it on by all means.”
“ Nothing is sacred to you, eh ? I see. Hold it then.”
She gave me the zouave and turned for me to put it on her.
A glimpse of the back of her white neck, as she bent her head
forward, a convulsion of her adorable shoulders as she drew on the
jacket, and the zouave was fitted on. Two seconds perhaps,
but my self-control wrapped round me had lost one of its skins.
“ Now I must find a turban or fez,” she said, turning over
gently, but without any ceremony, the pile. “ Oh, here’s one ! ”
She drew out a white fez, also embroidered in gold, and, removing
her
“ Some perhaps,” returned Theodora, throwing her glance over
them. “ But a great many are not new.”
It struck me that she would not be a woman very easy to
deceive. Some men value a woman in proportion to the ease with
which they can impose upon her, but to me it is too much trouble
to deceive at all, so that the absence of that amiable quality did
not disquiet me. On the c.ontrary, the comprehensive, cynical,
and at the sarne time indulgent smile that came so readily to
Theodora’s lips charmed me more, because it was the promise of
even less trouble than a real or professed obtuseness.
“No,” I assented merely.
“Well, then ? ” asked Theodora, but without troubling to seek
a reply. “ How pretty they are and how curious ! this one, for
instance.” And she took up a blue silk zouave, covered with gold
embroidery, and worth perhaps about thirty pounds. “ This has
been a good deal worn. It is a Souvenir, I suppose ? ”
I nodded. With any other woman I was similarly anxious to
please I should have denied it, but with her I feit it did not
matter.
“Too sacred perhaps, then, for me to put on ? ” she asked with
her hand in the collar, and smiling derisively.
“ Oh dear no ! ” I said, “not at all. Put it on by all means.”
“ Nothing is sacred to you, eh ? I see. Hold it then.”
She gave me the zouave and turned for me to put it on her.
A glimpse of the back of her white neck, as she bent her head
forward, a convulsion of her adorable shoulders as she drew on the
jacket, and the zouave was fitted on. Two seconds perhaps,
but my self-control wrapped round me had lost one of its skins.
“ Now I must find a turban or fez,” she said, turning over
gently, but without any ceremony, the pile. “ Oh, here’s one ! ”
She drew out a white fez, also embroidered in gold, and, removing
her