Page 765 - the-portrait-of-a-lady
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‘There’s something I want you to know,’ the Countess de-
         clared-”because I think you ought to know it. Perhaps you
         do; perhaps you’ve guessed it. But if you have, all I can say
         is that I understand still less why you shouldn’t do as you
         like.’
            ‘What do you wish me to know?’ Isabel felt a foreboding
         that made her heart beat faster. The Countess was about to
         justify herself, and this alone was portentous.
            But she was nevertheless disposed to play a little with
         her subject. ‘In your place I should have guessed it ages ago.
         Have you never really suspected?’
            ‘I’ve guessed nothing. What should I have suspected? I
         don’t know what you mean.
            ‘That’s because you’ve such a beastly pure mind. I never
         saw a woman with such a pure mind!’ cried the Countess.
            Isabel slowly got up. ‘You’re going to tell me something
         horrible.’
            ‘You  can  call  it  by  whatever  name  you  will!’  And  the
         Countess rose also, while her gathered perversity grew vivid
         and dreadful. She stood a moment in a sort of glare of in-
         tention and, as seemed to Isabel even then, of ugliness; after
         which she said: ‘My first sister-in-law had no children.’
            Isabel stared back at her; the announcement was an anti-
         climax. ‘Your first sister-in-law?’
            ‘I suppose you know at least, if one may mention it, that
         Osmond has been married before! I’ve never spoken to you
         of his wife; I thought it mightn’t be decent or respectful. But
         others, less particular, must have done so. The poor little
         woman lived hardly three years and died childless. It wasn’t

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