She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. She herself had cut the slender tie that had bound them. "Heaven be praised, I am not the son of a nobleman. The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint smile across the table at him, “is here. She responded at once, rapping him on the knuckles with her fan. Not that it would make any difference if he was alive still. "Once for all, I shall go. We two just love each other—the real, identical other—all the time. When he was given the telegram he flew to the Praya, engaged the fast motorboat he had previously bespoken against the need, and started for the Macao Passage, with the vague hope of speaking The Tigress. I figured it would hurt your feelings if you knew I still talked to him, so I kept my mouth shut.
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