"Well, it would have been scarcely decent if you had, seeing how lately you were married.But then, so was that artful Bastin.
Perhaps you will get over it--recent marriage, I mean--as he has." He hesitated a while, then went on: "Of course you will, old fellow; I know it, and, what is more, I seem to know that when your turn comes you will get a different answer.If so, it will keep her in the family as it were--and good luck to you.
Only--"
"Only what?" I asked anxiously.
"To be honest, Arbuthnot, I don't think that there will be real good luck for any one of us over this woman--not in the ordinary sense, I mean.The whole business is too strange and superhuman.
Is she quite a woman, and could she really marry a man as others do?""It is curious that you should talk like that," I said uneasily."I thought that you had made up your mind that the whole business was either illusion or trickery--I mean, the odd side of it.""If it is illusion, Arbuthnot, then a man cannot marry an illusion.And if it is trickery, then he will certainly be tricked.But, supposing that I am wrong, what then?""You mean, supposing things are as they seem to be?""Yes.In that event, Arbuthnot, I am sure that something will occur to prevent your being united to a woman who lived thousands of years ago.I am sorry to say it, but Fate will intervene.
Remember, it is the god of her people that I suppose she worships, and, I may add, to which the whole world bows."At his words a kind of chill fell upon me.I think he saw or divined it, for after a few remarks upon some indifferent matter, he turned and went away.
Shortly after this Yva came to sit with me.She studied me for a while and I studied her.I had reason to do so, for I observed that of late her dress had become much more modern, and on the present occasion this struck me forcibly.I do not know exactly in what the change, or changes, consisted, because I am not skilled in such matters and can only judge of a woman's garments by their general effect.At any rate, the gorgeous sweeping robes were gone, and though her attire still looked foreign and somewhat oriental, with a touch of barbaric splendour about it--it was ******r than it had been and showed more of her figure, which was delicate, yet gracious.
"You have changed your robes, Lady," I said."Yes, Humphrey.
Bastin gave me pictures of those your women wear." (On further investigation I found that this referred to an old copy of the Queen newspaper, which, somehow or other, had been brought with the books from the ship.) "I have tried to copy them a little,"she added doubtfully.
"How do you do it? Where do you get the material?" I asked.
"Oh!" she answered with an airy wave of her hand, "I make it--it is there."
"I don't understand," I said, but she only smiled radiantly, offering no further explanation.Then, before I could pursue the subject, she asked me suddenly:
"What has Bickley been saying to you about me?" I fenced, answering: "I don't know.Bastin and Bickley talk of little else.