Osmond had
told her to think of what he had said; and she did so indeed, and of
many other things. The suggestion from another that she had a definite
influence on Lord Warburton-this had given her the start that
accompanies unexpected recognition. Was it true that there was
something still between them that might be a handle to make him
declare himself to Pansy-a susceptibility, on his part, to approval, a
desire to do what would please her? Isabel had hitherto not asked
herself the question, because she had not been forced; but now that it
was directly presented to her she saw the answer, and the answer
frightened her. Yes, there was something-something on Lord Warburton's
part. When he had first come to Rome she believed the link that united
them to be completely snapped; but little by little she had been
reminded that it had yet a palpable existence. It was as thin as a
hair, but there were moments when she seemed to hear it vibrate. For
herself nothing was changed; what she once thought of him she always
thought; it was needless this feeling should change; it seemed to
her in fact a better feeling than ever. But he? had he still the
idea that she might be more to him than other women? Had he the wish
to profit by the memory of the few moments of intimacy through which
they had once passed? Isabel knew she had read some of the signs of
such a disposition.
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