Man-woman relationships -- England -- Fiction; Married people -- England -- Fiction; Psychological fiction
She was not too reduced to this state, however, not to take, soon
enough, her own precaution--if a precaution it was to be deemed. I was
acutely conscious that the naturalness to which I have just alluded
would be, for either party, the only precaution worth speaking of. We
moved slowly round the room, pausing here and there for curiosity;
during which time the two men remained where we had found them. She had
begun at last to watch them and had proposed that we should see in what
they were so absorbed; but I checked her in the movement, raising my
hand in a friendly admonition to wait. We waited then, face to face,
looking at each other as if to catch a strain of music. This was what I
had intended, for it had just come to me that one of the voices was in
the air and that it had imposed close attention. The distinguished
painter listened while--to all appearance--Gilbert Long did, in the
presence of the picture, the explaining. Ford Obert moved, after a
little, but not so as to interrupt--only so as to show me his face in a
recall of what had passed between us the night before in the
smoking-room. I turned my eyes from Mrs. Server's; I allowed myself to
commune a little, across the shining space, with those of our
fellow-auditor. The occasion had thus for a minute the oddest little air
of an aesthetic lecture prompted by accidental, but immense, suggestions
and delivered by Gilbert Long.
I couldn't, at the distance, with my companion, quite follow it, but
Obert was clearly patient enough to betray that he was struck. His
impression was at any rate doubtless his share of surprise at Long's
gift of talk. This was what his eyes indeed most seemed to throw over
to me--"What an unexpected demon of a critic!" It was extraordinarily
interesting--I don't mean the special drift of Long's eloquence, which I
couldn't, as I say, catch; but the phenomenon of his, of all people,
dealing in that article. It put before me the question of whether, in
these strange relations that I believed I had thus got my glimpse of,
the action of the person "sacrificed" mightn't be quite out of
proportion to the resources of that person. It was as if these elements
might really multiply in the transfer made of them; as if the borrower
practically found himself--or herself--in possession of a greater sum
than the known property of the creditor. The surrender, in this way,
added, by pure beauty, to the thing surrendered. We all know the French
adage about that _plus belle fille du monde_ who can give but what she
has; yet if Mrs. Server, for instance, _had_ been the heroine of this
particular connection, the communication of her intelligence to her
friend would quite have falsified it. She would have given much more
than she had.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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