But Severne was too crafty for that. He had learned the art of
waiting.
After a few efforts at conversation and smooth rebuffs, he put on a
surprised, mortified, and sorrowful air, and awaited the attack, which he
felt would come soon or late.
This skillful inertia baffled the fair, in a man; in a woman, they might
have expected it; and, after a few hours, Zoe's patience began to wear
out.
The train stopped for twenty minutes, and, even while they were snatching
a little refreshment, the dark locks and the blonde came very close
together; and Zoe, exasperated by her own wounded pride and the sullen
torpor of her lover, gave Fanny fresh instructions, which nobody was
better qualified to carry out than that young lady, as nobody was better
able to baffle female strategy than the gentleman.
This time, however, the ladies had certain advantages, to balance his
subtlety and his habit of stating anything, true or false, that suited
his immediate purpose.
They opened very cat-like. Fanny affected to be outgrowing her ill-humor,
and volunteered a civil word or two to Severne. Thereupon Zoe turned
sharply away from Fanny, as if she disapproved her conduct, and took a
book.
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