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James, Henry

"The Portrait Of A Lady"

"Merciful powers, have I come to this?"
"There's not the slightest need of your walking alone," Mr. Bantling
gaily interposed. "I should be greatly pleased to go with you."
"I simply meant that you'd be late for dinner," Ralph returned.
"Those poor ladies may easily believe that we refuse, at the last,
to spare you."
"You had better have a hansom, Henrietta," said Isabel.
"I'll get you a hansom if you'll trust me," Mr. Bantling went on.
"We might walk a little till we meet one."
"I don't see why I shouldn't trust him, do you?" Henrietta
enquired of Isabel.
"I don't see what Mr. Bantling could do to you," Isabel obligingly
answered; "but, if you like, we'll walk with you till you find your
cab."
"Never mind; we'll go alone. Come on, Mr. Bantling, and take care
you get me a good one."
Mr. Bantling promised to do his best, and the two took their
departure, leaving the girl and her cousin together in the square,
over which a clear September twilight had now begun to gather. It
was perfectly still; the wide quadrangle of dusky houses showed lights
in none of the windows, where the shutters and blinds were closed; the
pavements were a vacant expanse, and, putting aside two small children
from a neighbouring slum, who, attracted by symptoms of abnormal
animation in the interior, poked their faces between the rusty rails
of the enclosure, the most vivid object within sight was the big red
pillar-post on the southeast corner.


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