Page 203 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

and a muffin—at Pratt’s Hotel.’
‘Mayn’t I dine with you?’ Ralph asked.
‘No, you’ll dine at your club.’
They had wandered back to their chairs in the centre
of the square again, and Ralph had lighted his cigarette.
It would have given him extreme pleasure to be present in
person at the modest little feast she had sketched; but in de-
fault of this he liked even being forbidden. For the moment,
however, he liked immensely being alone with her, in the
thickening dusk, in the centre of the multitudinous town; it
made her seem to depend upon him and to be in his power.
This power he could exert but vaguely; the best exercise of
it was to accept her decisions submissively—which indeed
there was already an emotion in doing. ‘Why won’t you let
me dine with you?’ he demanded after a pause.
‘Because I don’t care for it.’
‘I suppose you’re tired of me.’
‘I shall be an hour hence. You see I have the gift of fore-
knowledge.’
‘Oh, I shall be delightful meanwhile,’ said Ralph. But
he said nothing more, and as she made no rejoinder they
sat sometime in a stillness which seemed to contradict his
promise of entertainment. It seemed to him she was pre-
occupied, and he wondered what she was thinking about;
there were two or three very possible subjects. At last he
spoke again. ‘Is your objection to my society this evening
caused by your expectation of another visitor?’
She turned her head with a glance of her clear, fair eyes.
‘Another visitor? What visitor should I have?’

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