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James, Henry

"The Portrait Of A Lady"

"A rival! Do you call
him my rival?"
"Surely-if you both wish to marry the same person."
"Yes-but since he has no chance!"
"I like you, however that may be, for putting yourself in his place.
It shows imagination."
"You like me for it?" And Lord Warburton looked at her with an
uncertain eye. "I think you mean you're laughing at me for it."
"Yes, I'm laughing at you a little. But I like you as somebody to
laugh at."
"Ah well, then, let me enter into his situation a little more.
What do you suppose one could do for him?"
"Since I have been praising your imagination I'll leave you to
imagine that yourself," Isabel said. "Pansy too would like you for
that."
"Miss Osmond? Ah, she, I flatter myself, likes me already."
"Very much, I think."
He waited a little; he was still questioning her face. "Well then, I
don't understand you. You don't mean that she cares for him?"
"Surely I've told you I thought she did."
A quick blush sprang to his brow. "You told me she would have no
wish apart from her father's, and as I've gathered that he would
favour me-!" He paused a little and then suggested "Don't you see?"
through his blush.


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