Page 221 - the-portrait-of-a-lady
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seemed to him to sound the infernal note, and it is not on
         record that her motive for discharging such a shaft had been
         of the clearest. He oughtn’t to stride about lean and hungry,
         however—she certainly felt that for him. ‘God forgive you!’
         he murmured between his teeth as he turned away.
            Her accent had put her slightly in the wrong, and after a
         moment she felt the need to right herself. The easiest way to
         do it was to place him where she had been. ‘You do me great
         injustice—you say what you don’t know!’ she broke out. ‘I
         shouldn’t be an easy victim—I’ve proved it.’
            ‘Oh, to me, perfectly.’
            ‘I’ve proved it to others as well.’ And she paused a mo-
         ment. ‘I refused a proposal of marriage last week; what they
         call—no doubta dazzling one.’
            ‘I’m very glad to hear it,’ said the young man gravely.
            ‘It was a proposal many girls would have accepted; it had
         everything to recommend it.’ Isabel had not proposed to
         herself to tell this story, but, now she had begun, the sat-
         isfaction of speaking it out and doing herself justice took
         possession of her. ‘I was offered a great position and a great
         fortune—by a person whom I like extremely.’
            Caspar watched her with intense interest. ‘Is he an Eng-
         lishman?’
            ‘He’s an English nobleman,’ said Isabel.
            Her visitor received this announcement at first in silence,
         but at last said: ‘I’m glad he’s disappointed.’
            ‘Well then, as you have companions in misfortune, make
         the best of it.’
            ‘I don’t call him a companion,’ said Caspar grimly.

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