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why you must go then? Not to see your cousin, but to take a
revenge on me.’
‘I know nothing about revenge.’
‘I do,’ said Osmond. ‘Don’t give me an occasion.’
‘You’re only too eager to take one. You wish immensely
that I would commit some folly.’
‘I should be gratified in that case if you disobeyed me.’
‘If I disobeyed you?’ said Isabel in a low tone which had
the effect of mildness.
‘Let it be clear. If you leave Rome to-day it will be a piece
of the most deliberate, the most calculated, opposition.’
‘How can you call it calculated? I received my aunt’s tele-
gram but three minutes ago.’
‘You calculate rapidly; it’s a great accomplishment. I
don’t see why we should prolong our discussion; you know
my wish.’ And he stood there as if he expected to see her
withdraw.
But she never moved; she couldn’t move, strange as it may
seem; she still wished to justify herself; he had the power, in
an extraordinary degree, of making her feel this need. There
was something in her imagination he could always appeal
to against her judgement. ‘You’ve no reason for such a wish,’
said Isabel, ‘and I’ve every reason for going. I can’t tell you
how unjust you seem to me. But I think you know. It’s your
own opposition that’s calculated. It’s malignant.’
She had never uttered her worst thought to her hus-
band before, and the sensation of hearing it was evidently
new to Osmond. But he showed no surprise, and his cool-
ness was apparently a proof that he had believed his wife

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