But you know him--he's as blind as he's jealous; and of course Lily's present business is to keep him blind.

A clever woman might know just the right moment to tear off the bandage: but Lily isn't clever in that way, and when George does open his eyes she'll probably contrive not to be in his line of vision." Selden tossed away his cigarette.

"By Jove--it's time for my train," he exclaimed, with a glance at his watch; adding, in reply to Mrs.Fisher's surprised comment--"Why, I thought of course you were at Monte!"-- a murmured word to the effect that he was making Nice his head-quarters.
"The worst of it is, she snubs the Brys now," he heard irrelevantly flung after him.
Ten minutes later, in the high-perched bedroom of an hotel overlooking the Casino, he was tossing his effects into a couple of gaping portmanteaux, while the porter waited outside to transport them to the cab at the door.

It took but a brief plunge down the steep white road to the station to land him safely in the afternoon express for Nice; and not till he was installed in the corner of an empty carriage, did he exclaim to himself, with a reaction of self-contempt: "What the deuce am I running away from ?" The pertinence of the question checked Selden's fugitive impulse before the train had started.

It was ridiculous to be flying like an emotional coward from an infatuation his reason had conquered.