The Golden Bowl Henry James (spicy books to read txt) đ
- Author: Henry James
Book online «The Golden Bowl Henry James (spicy books to read txt) đ». Author Henry James
He made at this, the young man, an indignant protest. âYou talk about restâ âitâs too selfish!â âwhen youâre just launching me on adventures?â
She shook her head with her kind lucidity. âNot adventuresâ âheaven forbid! Youâve had yoursâ âas Iâve had mine; and my idea has been, all along, that we should neither of us begin again. My own last, precisely, has been doing for you all you so prettily mention. But it consists simply in having conducted you to rest. You talk about ships, but theyâre not the comparison. Your tossings are overâ âyouâre practically in port. The port,â she concluded, âof the Golden Isles.â
He looked about, to put himself more in relation with the place; then, after an hesitation, seemed to speak certain words instead of certain others. âOh, I know where I amâ â! I do decline to be left, but what I came for, of course, was to thank you. If today has seemed, for the first time, the end of preliminaries, I feel how little there would have been any at all without you. The first were wholly yours.â
âWell,â said Mrs. Assingham, âthey were remarkably easy. Iâve seen them, Iâve had them,â she smiled, âmore difficult. Everything, you must feel, went of itself. So, you must feel, everything still goes.â
The Prince quickly agreed. âOh, beautifully! But you had the conception.â
âAh, Prince, so had you!â
He looked at her harder a moment. âYou had it first. You had it most.â
She returned his look as if it had made her wonder. âI liked it, if thatâs what you mean. But you liked it surely yourself. I protest, that I had easy work with you. I had only at lastâ âwhen I thought it was timeâ âto speak for you.â
âAll that is quite true. But youâre leaving me, all the same, youâre leaving meâ âyouâre washing your hands of me,â he went on. âHowever, that wonât be easy; I wonât be left.â And he had turned his eyes about again, taking in the pretty room that she had just described as her final refuge, the place of peace for a world-worn couple, to which she had lately retired with âBob.â âI shall keep this spot in sight. Say what you will, I shall need you. Iâm not, you know,â he declared, âgoing to give you up for anybody.â
âIf youâre afraidâ âwhich of course youâre notâ âare you trying to make me the same?â she asked after a moment.
He waited a minute too, then answered her with a question. âYou say you âlikedâ it, your undertaking to make my engagement possible. It remains beautiful for me that you did; itâs charming and unforgettable. But, still more, itâs mysterious and wonderful. why, you dear delightful woman, did you like it?â
âI scarce know what to make,â she said, âof such an inquiry. If you havenât by this time found out yourself, what meaning can anything I say have for you? Donât you really after all feel,â she added while nothing came from himâ ââarenât you conscious every minute, of the perfection of the creature of whom Iâve put you into possession?â
âEvery minuteâ âgratefully conscious. But thatâs exactly the ground of my question. It wasnât only a matter of your handing me overâ âit was a matter of your handing her. It was a matter of her fate still more than of mine. You thought all the good of her that one woman can think of another, and yet, by your account, you enjoyed assisting at her risk.â
She had kept her eyes on him while he spoke, and this was what, visibly, determined a repetition for her. âAre you trying to frighten me?â
âAh, thatâs a foolish viewâ âI should be too vulgar. You apparently canât understand either my good faith or my humility. Iâm awfully humble,â the young man insisted; âthatâs the way Iâve been feeling today, with everything so finished and ready. And you wonât take me for serious.â
She continued to face him as if he really troubled her a little. âOh, you deep old Italians!â
âThere you are,â he returnedâ ââitâs what I wanted you to come to. Thatâs the responsible note.â
âYes,â she went onâ ââif youâre âhumbleâ you must be dangerous.â
She had a pause while he only smiled; then she said: âI donât in the least want to lose sight of you. But even if I did I shouldnât think it right.â
âThank you for thatâ âitâs what I needed of you. Iâm sure, after all, that the more youâre with me the more I shall understand. Itâs the only thing in the world I want. Iâm excellent, I really think, all roundâ âexcept that Iâm stupid. I can do pretty well anything I see. But Iâve got to see it first.â And he pursued his demonstration. âI donât in the least mind its having to be shown meâ âin fact I like that better. Therefore it is that I want, that I shall always want, your eyes. Through them I wish to lookâ âeven at any risk of their showing me what I maynât like. For then,â he wound up, âI shall know. And of that I shall never be afraid.â
She might quite have been waiting to see what he would come to, but she spoke with a certain impatience. âWhat on earth are you talking about?â
But he could perfectly say: âOf my real, honest fear of being âoffâ some day, of being wrong, without knowing it. Thatâs what I shall always trust you forâ âto tell me when I am. Noâ âwith you people itâs a sense. We havenât got itâ ânot as you have. Thereforeâ â!â But he had said enough. âEcco!â he simply smiled.
It was not
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