"Ah no," said Ralph, "I keep my victims for a slower torture. And
you'd be such an interesting one!"
"Well, you do torture me; I may say that. But I shock all your
prejudices; that's one comfort."
"My prejudices? I haven't a prejudice to bless myself with.
There's intellectual poverty for you."
"The more shame to you; I've some delicious ones. Of course I
spoil your flirtation, or whatever it is you call it, with your
cousin; but I don't care for that, as I render her the service of
drawing you out. She'll see how thin you are."
"Ah, do draw me out!" Ralph exclaimed. "So few people will take
the trouble."
Miss Stackpole, in this undertaking, appeared to shrink from no
effort; resorting largely, whenever the opportunity offered, to the
natural expedient of interrogation. On the following day the weather
was bad, and in the afternoon the young man, by way of providing
indoor amusement, offered to show her the pictures. Henrietta strolled
through the long gallery in his society, while he pointed out its
principal ornaments and mentioned the painters and subjects. Miss
Stackpole looked at the pictures in perfect silence, committing
herself to no opinion, and Ralph was gratified by the fact that she
delivered herself of none of the little ready-made ejaculations of
delight of which the visitors to Gardencourt were so frequently
lavish.
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