transparent way in which his old friend bade for his sympathy and
society. She was the same as ever, living upon admiration, upon
compliments whether fictitious or not, and demanding a show of devotion,
somebody always at her feet. She thought, no doubt, he said to himself,
that she had got him at her feet, and he laughed to himself when he was
alone at the thought. But, nevertheless, it did amuse him to talk to the
Contessa, and before long, what with skilful reminders of the past, what
with hints and reference to a knowledge which he would not like extended
to the world, he had begun by degrees to find himself in a confidential
position with her. "We know each other's secrets," she would say to him
with a meaning look. He was caught in her snare. On the other hand an
indefinite visit prolonged and endless had never come within his
calculation. He did not know how to put an end to the situation--perhaps
as it was an amusement for his evenings to see the siren spread her
snares, and even to be more or less caught in them, he did not sincerely
wish to put an end to it as yet. He was caught in them more or less, but
never so much as to be unaware of the skill with which the snares were
laid, which would have amused him whatever had been the seriousness of
the attendant circumstances. He did not, however, allow that he had no
desire to make an end of these circumstances, but only said to himself,
with a shrug of his shoulders, how could he do it? He could not send his
old friend away. He could not but be civil and attentive to her so long
as she was under his roof. It distressed him that Lucy should feel it,
as this morning's experience proved her to do, but how could he help it?
He made that other sacrifice to Lucy by way of reconciling her to the
inevitable, but he could do no more. When you invite a friend to be your
guest, he said to himself, you must be more or less at the mercy of that
friend. If he (or she) stays too long, what can you do? Sir Tom was not
the sort of man to be reduced to helplessness by such a difficulty. Yet
this was what he said to himself.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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