“The gentleman is a sailor?” asked Ferragut in order to clarify his doubts.
The monocle did not move from its orbit, but a light ripple of surprise appeared to cross its luminous convexity. The doctor hastened to reply.
“The count is an illustrious diplomat who is now on leave, regaining his health. He has traveled a great deal, but he is not a sailor.”
And she continued her explanations.
The Kaledines were of a Russian family ennobled in the days of Catherine the Great. The doctor, being a Polish woman, had been connected with them for many years.... And she ceased speaking, giving Kaledine his cue in the conversation.
At the beginning the count appeared cold and rather disdainful in his words, as though he could not possibly lay aside his diplomatic haughtiness. But this hauteur gradually melted away.
Through his “distinguished friend,—Madame Talberg,” he had heard of many of Ferragut’s nautical adventures. Men of action, the heroes of the ocean, were always exceedingly interesting to him.
Ulysses suddenly noticed in his noble interlocutor a warm affection, a desire to make himself agreeable, just like the doctor’s. What a lovely home this was in which everybody was making an effort to be gracious to Captain Ferragut!
The count, smiling amiably, ceased to avail himself of his English, and soon began talking to him in Spanish, as though he had reserved this final touch in order to captivate Ulysses’ affection with this most irresistible of flatteries.
“I have lived in Mexico,” he said, in order to explain his knowledge of the language. “I made a long trip through the Philippines when I was living in Japan.”
The seas of the extreme Far East were those least frequented by Ulysses. Only twice had he entered the Chinese and Nipponese harbors, but he knew them sufficiently to keep up his end of the conversation with this traveler who was displaying in his tastes a certain artistic refinement. For half an hour, there filed through the vulgar atmosphere of this salon, images of enormous pagodas with superimposed roofs whose strings of bells vibrated in the breeze like an Aeolian harp, monstrous idols—carved in gold, in bronze, or in marble-houses made of paper, thrones of bamboo, furniture with mother-of-pearl inlay, screens with flocks of flying storks.
The doctor disappeared, bored by a dialogue of which she could only understand a few words. Freya, motionless, with drowsy eyes, and a knee between her crossed hands, held herself aloof, understanding the conversation, but without taking any part in it, as though she were offended at the forgetfulness in which the two men were leaving her. Finally she slipped discreetly away, responding to the call of a hand peeping through the portieres. The doctor was preparing tea and needed help.
The conversation continued on in no way affected by their absence. Kaledine had abandoned the Asiatic waters in order to pass to the Mediterranean, and there he anchored himself with admirable insistence. Another sign of affection for Ferragut who was finding him more and more charming in spite of his slightly glacial attitude.