And it was to that quality, almost unknown to
himself, that Saltash did homage as he rose.
Her look flashed across to him, comprehended his action, and laughed open
triumph. Then with a suddenness almost too swift to follow, she turned to
a man who had entered behind her and softly spoke.
Saltash's eyes went to the man, and he drew a low whistle between his
teeth. It was well known that Rozelle Daubeni never travelled without an
escort; but this man--this man--He was tall and broad, and he carried
himself with a supreme contempt for his fellow-men. He did not look at
Saltash, did not apparently even see the hushed crowd that hung upon
every movement of that wonderful woman-creature who took the world by
storm wherever she went.
He was superbly indifferent to his surroundings, gazing straight before
him with the eyes of a Viking who searches the far horizon. He walked
with the free swing of a pirate. And as the woman turned her dazzling
face towards him, it was plain to all that she saw none but him in that
vast and crowded place.
He was by her side as they moved forward, and they saw her lightly touch
his arm, with an intimate gesture, as though they were alone. Then the
whole throng broke into acclamations, and the spell was broken.
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