THE PATH OF VISION
She spread a banquet of her studied demure charms before both her admirers, but was very careful not to unveil her soul. The Parisian talked to her in the argot of the French novel, which she understood and accepted at its face value; the Persian addressed her in a language of repressed emotions, which she likely misunderstood, but better appreciated. The Parisian amused her with his undisguised curiosity, the Persian attracted her with a silent something that was burrowing perhaps under her feet or secretly fingering the forbidding veil of her mystery.
And she was least likely to mistake the motive that wore a mask. She feared the Oriental, it is true, but she was fascinated by him. For she felt that to him she was, above all and beneath all, a woman and, therefore, a mystery. And as such, she should be reverently approached or austerely eschewed. The Persian's curiosity, if he had any, permitted of no other alternative. The result was that her fear and suspicion, although he did not recognize her
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