Page 227 - the-portrait-of-a-lady
P. 227

Isabel’s  confidence  in  him,  however,  was  greater  than
         any he could feel in her. Not that he thought her capable
         of committing an atrocity; but, turn it over as he would,
         there was something ominous in the way she reserved her
         option. As she took his hand she felt a great respect for him;
         she knew how much he cared for her and she thought him
         magnanimous. They stood so for a moment, looking at each
         other, united by a hand-clasp which was not merely passive
         on her side. ‘That’s right,’ she said very kindly, almost ten-
         derly. ‘You’ll lose nothing by being a reasonable man.’
            ‘But I’ll come back, wherever you are, two years hence,’
         he returned with characteristic grimness.
            We  have  seen  that  our  young  lady  was  inconsequent,
         and at this she suddenly changed her note. ‘Ah, remember, I
         promise nothingabsolutely nothing!’ Then more softly, as if
         to help him to leave her: ‘And remember too that I shall not
         be an easy victim!’
            ‘You’ll get very sick of your independence.’
            ‘Perhaps I shall; it’s even very probable. When that day
         comes I shall be very glad to see you.’
            She had laid her hand on the knob of the door that led
         into  her  room,  and  she  waited  a  moment  to  see  whether
         her visitor would not take his departure. But he appeared
         unable to move; there was still an immense unwillingness
         in his attitude and a sore remonstrance in his eyes. ‘I must
         leave you now,’ said Isabel; and she opened the door and
         passed into the other room.
            This apartment was dark, but the darkness was tempered
         by a vague radiance sent up through the window from the

                                                       227
   222   223   224   225   226   227   228   229   230   231   232