The Wings of the Dove Henry James (android based ebook reader TXT) đ
- Author: Henry James
Book online «The Wings of the Dove Henry James (android based ebook reader TXT) đ». Author Henry James
Precipitate these well might be, since they emphasised the fact that she was proceeding in the sense of the assurances she had taken. Over the latter she had visibly not hesitated, for hadnât they had the merit of giving her a chance? Densher quite saw her, felt her take it; the chance, neither more nor less, of help rendered him according to her freedom. It was what Kate had left her with: âListen to him, I? Never! So do as you like.â What Milly âlikedâ was to do, it thus appeared, as she was doing: our young manâs glimpse of which was just what would have been for him not less a glimpse of the peculiar brutality of shaking her off. The choice exhaled its shy fragrance of heroism, for it was not aided by any question of parting with Kate. She would be charming to Kate as well as to Kateâs adorer; she would incur whatever pain could dwell for her in the sightâ âshould she continue to be exposed to the sightâ âof the adorer thrown with the adored. It wouldnât really have taken much more to make him wonder if he hadnât before him one of those rare cases of exaltationâ âfood for fiction, food for poetryâ âin which a manâs fortune with the woman who doesnât care for him is positively promoted by the woman who does. It was as if Milly had said to herself: âWell, he can at least meet her in my society, if thatâs anything to him; so that my line can only be to make my society attractive.â She certainly couldnât have made a different impression if she had so reasoned. All of which, none the less, didnât prevent his soon enough saying to her, quite as if she were to be whirled into space: âAnd now, then, what becomes of you? Do you begin to rush about on visits to country-houses?â
She disowned the idea with a headshake that, put on what face she would, couldnât help betraying to him something of her suppressed view of the possibilityâ âever, ever perhapsâ âof any such proceedings. They werenât at any rate for her now. âDear no. We go abroad for a few weeks somewhere of high air. That has been before us for many days; weâve only been kept on by last necessities here. However, everythingâs done and the windâs in our sails.â
âMay you scud then happily before it! But when,â he asked, âdo you come back?â
She looked ever so vague; then as if to correct it: âOh when the wind turns. And what do you do with your summer?â
âAh I spend it in sordid toil. I drench it with mercenary ink. My work in your country counts for play as well. You see whatâs thought of the pleasure your country can give. My holidayâs over.â
âIâm sorry you had to take it,â said Milly, âat such a different time from ours. If you could but have worked while weâve been workingâ ââ
âI might be playing while you play? Oh the distinction isnât so great with me. Thereâs a little of each for me, of work and of play, in either. But you and Mrs. Stringham, with Miss Croy and Mrs. Lowderâ âyou all,â he went on, âhave been given up, like navvies or niggers, to real physical toil. Your rest is something youâve earned and you need. My labourâs comparatively light.â
âVery true,â she smiled; âbut all the same I like mine.â
âIt doesnât leave you âdoneâ?â
âNot a bit. I donât get tired when Iâm interested. Oh I could go far.â
He bethought himself. âThen why donât you?â âsince youâve got here, as I learn, the whole place in your pocket.â
âWell, itâs a kind of economyâ âIâm saving things up. Iâve enjoyed so what you speak ofâ âthough your account of itâs fantasticâ âthat Iâm watching over its future, that I canât help being anxious and careful. I wantâ âin the interest itself of what Iâve had and may still haveâ ânot to make stupid mistakes. The way not to make them is to get off again to a distance and see the situation from there. I shall keep it fresh,â she wound up as if herself rather pleased with the ingenuity of her statementâ ââI shall keep it fresh, by that prudence, for my return.â
âAh then you will return? Can you promise one that?â
Her face fairly lighted at his asking for a promise; but she made as if bargaining a little. âIsnât London rather awful in winter?â
He had been going to ask her if she meant for the invalid; but he checked the infelicity of this and took the enquiry as referring to social life. âNoâ âI like it, with one thing and another; itâs less of a mob than later on; and it would have for us the meritâ âshould you come here thenâ âthat we should probably see more of you. So do reappear for usâ âif it isnât a question of climate.â
She looked at that a little graver. âIf what isnât a questionâ â?â
âWhy the determination of your movements. You spoke just now of going somewhere for that.â
âFor better air?ââ âshe remembered. âOh yes, one certainly wants to get out of London in August.â
âRather, of course!ââ âhe fully understood. âThough Iâm glad youâve hung on long enough for me to catch you. Try us at any rate,â he continued, âonce more.â
âWhom do you mean by âusâ?â she presently asked.
It pulled him up an instantâ ârepresenting, as he saw it might have seemed, an allusion to himself as conjoined with
Comments (0)