Page 591 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

terrace of a Florentine villa; except that Osmond had grown
slightly stouter since his marriage. He still, however, might
strike one as very distinguished.
‘Has Lord Warburton been here?’ he presently asked.
‘Yes, he stayed half an hour.’
‘Did he see Pansy?’
‘Yes; he sat on the sofa beside her.’
‘Did he talk with her much?’
‘He talked almost only to her.’
‘It seems to me he’s attentive. Isn’t that what you call it?’
‘I don’t call it anything,’ said Isabel; ‘I’ve waited for you
to give it a name.’
‘That’s a consideration you don’t always show,’ Osmond
answered after a moment.
‘I’ve determined, this time, to try and act as you’d like.
I’ve so often failed of that.’
Osmond turned his head slowly, looking at her. ‘Are you
trying to quarrel with me?’
‘No, I’m trying to live at peace.’
‘Nothing’s more easy; you know I don’t quarrel myself.’
‘What do you call it when you try to make me angry?’
Isabel asked.
‘I don’t try; if I’ve done so it has been the most natural
thing in the world. Moreover I’m not in the least trying
now.’
Isabel smiled. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’ve determined never to
be angry again.’
‘That’s an excellent resolve. Your temper isn’t good.’
‘No-it’s not good.’ She pushed away the book she had

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