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Zuleika Dobson; Or, An Oxford Love Story
·
Sir Max Beerbohm
43
“LOVE
you?”
she
retorted.
“YOU?”
“You
no
longer
love
me.
Why?
Why?”
“What
do
you
mean?”
“You
loved
me.
Don’t
trifle
with
me.
You
came
to
me
loving
me
with
all
your
heart.”
“How
do
you
know?”
“Look
in
the
glass.”
She
went
at
his
bidding.
He
followed
her.
“You
see
them?”
he
said,
after
a
long
pause.
Zuleika
nodded.
The
two
pearls
quivered
to
her
nod.
“They
were
white
when
you
came
to
me,”
he
sighed.
“They
were
white
because
you
loved
me.
From
them
it
was
that
I
knew
you
loved
me
even
as
I
loved
you.
But
their
old
colours
have
come
back
to
them.
That
is
how
I
know
that
your
love
for
me
is
dead.”
Zuleika
stood
gazing
pensively,
twitching
the
two
pearls
between
her
fingers.
Tears
gathered
in
her
eyes.
She
met
the
reflection
of
her
lover’s
eyes,
and
her
tears
brimmed
over.
She
buried
her
face
in
her
hands,
and
sobbed
like
a
child.
Like
a
child’s,
her
sobbing
ceased
quite
suddenly.
She
groped
for
her
handkerchief,
angrily
dried
her
eyes,
and
straightened
and
smoothed
herself.
“Now
I’m
going,”
she
said.
“You
came
here
of
your
own
accord,
because
you
loved
me,”
said
the
Duke.
“And
you
shall
not
go
till
you
have
told
me
why
you
have
left
off
loving
me.”
“How
did
you
know
I
loved
you?”
she
asked
after
a
pause.
“How
did
you
know
I
hadn’t
simply
put
on
another
pair
of
ear-rings?”
The
Duke,
with
a
melancholy
laugh,
drew
the
two
studs
from
his
waistcoat-pocket.
“These
are
the
studs
I
wore
last
night,”
he
said.
Marker
Marker
Fine marker
White-out
Fine white-out
Circle
Paint
Unmarker
Hand
Scalpel
Dice
Sieve
Purify
Undo
Redo
Start over
