Page 202 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

Miss Stackpole as Henrietta.
‘Very possibly,’ said his companion.
‘Or rather, no, she won’t,’ he went on. ‘But Bantling will
ask leave to get in.’
‘Very likely again. I’m very glad they’re such good
friends.’
‘She has made a conquest. He thinks her a brilliant wom-
an. It may go far,’ said Ralph.
Isabel was briefly silent. ‘I call Henrietta a very brilliant
woman, but I don’t think it will go far. They would never
really know each other. He has not the least idea what she
really is, and she has no just comprehension of Mr. Bant-
ling.’
‘There’s no more usual basis of union than a mutual
misunderstanding. But it ought not to be so difficult to un-
derstand Bob Bantling,’ Ralph added. ‘He is a very simple
organism.’
‘Yes, but Henrietta’s a simpler one still. And, pray, what
am I to do?’ Isabel asked, looking about her through the
fading light, in which the limited landscape-gardening of
the square took on a large and effective appearance. ‘I don’t
imagine that you’ll propose that you and I, for our amuse-
ment, shall drive about London in a hansom.’
‘There’s no reason we shouldn’t stay here—if you don’t
dislike it. It’s very warm; there will be half an hour yet be-
fore dark; and if you permit it I’ll light a cigarette.’
‘You may do what you please,’ said Isabel, ‘if you’ll amuse
me till seven o’clock. I propose at that hour to go back and
partake of a simple and solitary repast—two poached eggs

202 The Portrait of a Lady