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James, Henry

"The Portrait Of A Lady"


When the date comes round she starts; I think she'd have started if
Ralph had been dying."
"I sometimes think he is dying," Lord Warburton said.
Isabel sprang up. "I'll go to him then now."
He checked her; he was a little disconcerted at the quick effect
of his words. "I don't mean I thought so to-night. On the contrary,
to-day, in the train, he seemed particularly well; the idea of our
reaching Rome-he's very fond of Rome, you know-gave him strength. An
hour ago, when I bade him good-night, he told me he was very tired,
but very happy. Go to him in the morning; that's all I mean. I
didn't tell him I was coming here; I didn't decide to till after we
had separated. Then I remembered he had told me you had an evening,
and that it was this very Thursday. It occurred to me to come in and
tell you he's here, and let you know you had perhaps better not wait
for him to call. I think he said he hadn't written to you." There
was no need of Isabel's declaring that she would act upon Lord
Warburton's information; she looked, as she sat there, like a winged
creature held back. "Let alone that I wanted to see you myself," her
visitor gallantly added.


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