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And Vere--what did she embody? Not Sicily, though she was
in some ways so Sicilian. Not England; certainly not that!
Suddenly Artois was conscious that he knew Doro much better than he
knew Vere. He remembered the statement of an Austrian psychologist,
that men are far more mysterious than women, and shook his head over
it now. He felt strongly the mystery that lay hidden deep down in the
innocence of Vere, in the innocence of every girl-child of Vere's age
who had brains, temperament and perfect purity. What a marvellous
combination they made! He imagined the clear flame of them burning in
the night of the world of men. Vere must be happy.
When he said this to himself he knew that, perhaps for the first time,
he was despairing of something that he ardently desired. He was
transferring a wish, that was something like a prayer in the heart of
one who had seldom prayed. He was giving up hope for Hermione and
fastening hope on Vere. For a moment that seemed like treachery, like
an abandoning of Hermione.


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