Page 485 - the-portrait-of-a-lady
P. 485

you say, I’m caught. Certainly it won’t be pleasant for you to
         remember this, but your pain will be in your own thoughts.
         I shall never reproach you.’
            ‘I don’t think you ever will,’ said Ralph. ‘It’s not in the
         least the sort of marriage I thought you’d make.’
            ‘What sort of marriage was that, pray?’
            ‘Well, I can hardly say. I hadn’t exactly a positive view of
         it, but I had a negative. I didn’t think you’d decide for-well,
         for that type.’
            ‘What’s the matter with Mr. Osmond’s type, if it be one?
         His being so independent, so individual, is what I most see
         in him,’ the girl declared. ‘What do you know against him?
         You know him scarcely at all.’
            ‘Yes,’ Ralph said, ‘I know him very little, and I confess
         I haven’t facts and items to prove him a villain. But all the
         same I can’t help feeling that you’re running a grave risk.’
            ‘Marriage is always a grave risk, and his risk’s as grave
         as mine.’
            ‘That’s his affair! If he’s afraid, let him back out. I wish to
         God he would.’
            Isabel reclined in her chair, folding her arms and gazing
         a while at her cousin. ‘I don’t think I understand you,’ she
         said at last coldly. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
            ‘I believed you’d marry a man of more importance.’
            Cold, I say, her tone had been, but at this a colour like a
         flame leaped into her face. ‘Of more importance to whom?
         It seems to me enough that one’s husband should be of im-
         portance to one’s self!’
            Ralph  blushed  as  well;  his  attitude  embarrassed  him.

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