When I discovered, ten
years ago, that my husband's dearest wish was to make me miserable
of late he has simply let me alone-ah, it was a wonderful
simplification! My poor Isabel, you're not simple enough."
"No, I'm not simple enough," said Isabel.
"There's something I want you to know," the Countess
declared-"because I think you ought to know it. Perhaps you do;
perhaps you've guessed it. But if you have, all I can say is that I
understand still less why you shouldn't do as you like."
"What do you wish me to know?" Isabel felt a foreboding that made
her heart beat faster. The Countess was about to justify herself,
and this alone was portentous.
But she was nevertheless disposed to play a little with her subject.
"In your place I should have guessed it ages ago. Have you never
really suspected?"
"I've guessed nothing. What should I have suspected? I don't know
what you mean.
"That's because you've such a beastly pure mind. I never saw a woman
with such a pure mind!" cried the Countess.
Isabel slowly got up. "You're going to tell me something horrible."
"You can call it by whatever name you will!" And the Countess rose
also, while her gathered perversity grew vivid and dreadful.
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