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Chapter 7

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    aglorious,unquestionablefact,whichamanandanotherwomanhadgiventotheworld.Youcouldtalktoitintimeitwouldansweryouintimeitwouldnotansweryouunlessitchose,butwouldsecrete,withinthecompassofitsbody,thoughtsandwonderfulpassionsofitsown.AndthiswasthemachineonwhichsheandMrs.HerritonandPhilipandHarriethadforthelastmonthbeenexercisingtheirvariousideals—haddeterminedthatintimeitshouldmovethiswayorthatway,shouldaccomplishthisandnotthat.ItwastobeLowChurch,itwastobehigh-principled,itwastobetactful,gentlemanly,artistic—excellentthingsall.Yetnowthatshesawthisbaby,lyingasleeponadirtyrug,shehadagreatdispositionnottodictateoneofthem,andtoexertnomoreinfluencethantheremaybeinakissorinthevaguestoftheheartfeltprayers. Butshehadpractisedself-discipline,andherthoughtsandactionswerenotyettocorrespond.Torecoverherself-esteemshetriedtoimaginethatshewasinherdistrict,andtobehaveaccordingly. “Whatafinechild,SignorCarella.Andhowniceofyoutotalktoit.ThoughIseethattheungratefullittlefellowisasleep!Sevenmonths?No,eightofcourseeight.Still,heisaremarkablyfinechildforhisage.” Italianisabadmediumforcondescension.Thepatronizingwordscameoutgraciousandsincere,andhesmiledwithpleasure. “Youmustnotstand.Letussitontheloggia,whereitiscool.Iamafraidtheroomisveryuntidy,”headded,withtheairofahostesswhoapologizesforastraythreadonthedrawing-roomcarpet.MissAbbottpickedherwaytothechair.Hesatnearher,astridetheparapet,withonefootintheloggiaandtheotherdanglingintotheview.Hisfacewasinprofile,anditsbeautifulcontoursdroveartfullyagainstthemistygreenoftheopposinghills.“Posing!”saidMissAbbotttoherself.“Abornartist’smodel.” “Mr.Herritoncalledyesterday,”shebegan,“butyouwereout.” Hestartedanelaborateandgracefulexplanation.HehadgoneforthedaytoPoggibonsi.WhyhadtheHerritonsnotwrittentohim,sothathecouldhavereceivedthemproperly?Poggibonsiwouldhavedoneanydaynotbutwhathisbusinesstherewasfairlyimportant.Whatdidshesupposethatitwas? Naturallyshewasnotgreatlyinterested.ShehadnotcomefromSawstontoguesswhyhehadbeentoPoggibonsi.Sheansweredpolitelythatshehadnoidea,andreturnedtohermission. “Butguess!”hepersisted,clappingthebalustradebetweenhishands.
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