Page 488 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

cellent.’
‘He’s the incarnation of taste,’ Ralph went on, thinking
hard how he could best express Gilbert Osmond’s sinister
attributes without putting himself in the wrong by seeming
to describe him coarsely. He wished to describe him im-
personally, scientifically. ‘He judges and measures, approves
and condemns, altogether by that.’
‘It’s a happy thing then that his taste should be exqui-
site.’
‘It’s exquisite, indeed, since it has led him to select you as
his bride. But have you ever seen such a taste-a really exqui-
site one-ruffled?’
‘I hope it may never be my fortune to fail to gratify my
husband’s.’
At these words a sudden passion leaped to Ralph’s lips.
‘Ah, that’s wilful, that’s unworthy of you! You were not
meant to be measured in that way-you were meant for
something better than to keep guard over the sensibilities
of a sterile dilettante!’
Isabel rose quickly and he did the same, so that they
stood for a moment looking at each other as if he had flung
down a defiance or an insult. But ‘You go too far,’ she sim-
ply breathed.
‘I’ve said what I had on my mind-and I’ve said it because
I love you!’
Isabel turned pale: was he too on that tiresome list? She
had a sudden wish to strike him off. ‘Ah then, you’re not
disinterested!’
‘I love you, but I love without hope,’ said Ralph quickly,

488 The Portrait of a Lady