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James, Henry

"The Portrait Of A Lady"

He
still, however, might strike one as very distinguished.
"Has Lord Warburton been here?" he presently asked.
"Yes, he stayed half an hour."
"Did he see Pansy?"
"Yes; he sat on the sofa beside her."
"Did he talk with her much?"
"He talked almost only to her."
"It seems to me he's attentive. Isn't that what you call it?"
"I don't call it anything," said Isabel; "I've waited for you to
give it a name."
"That's a consideration you don't always show," Osmond answered
after a moment.
"I've determined, this time, to try and act as you'd like. I've so
often failed of that."
Osmond turned his head slowly, looking at her. "Are you trying to
quarrel with me?"
"No, I'm trying to live at peace."
"Nothing's more easy; you know I don't quarrel myself."
"What do you call it when you try to make me angry?" Isabel asked.
"I don't try; if I've done so it has been the most natural thing
in the world. Moreover I'm not in the least trying now."
Isabel smiled. "It doesn't matter. I've determined never to be angry
again."
"That's an excellent resolve. Your temper isn't good."
"No-it's not good." She pushed away the book she had been reading
and took up the band of tapestry Pansy had left on the table.


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