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Densher made no secret to Kate of his having asked for a day to decide; and his account of that matter was that he felt he owed it to her to speak to her first. She assured him on this that nothing so much as that scruple had yet shown her how they were bound together; she was clearly proud of his letting a thing of such importance depend on her; but she was clearer still as to his instant duty.
A rumble, a great shake, a considerable effective clatter, had been apparently succeeded by a pause at the door of the hotel, which was in turn accompanied by a due display of diminished prancing and stamping. "You've a visitor," Densher laughed, "and it must be at least an ambassador." "It's only my own carriage; it does that isn't it wonderful? every day. But we find it, Mrs.
It was a tone that, for the minute, imposed itself in its dry despair; it represented, in the bleak place, which had no life of its own, none but the life Kate had left the sense of which, for that matter, by mystic channels, might fairly be reaching the visitor the very impotence of their extinction. And Densher had nothing to oppose it withal, nothing but again: "Is she dying?"
It was some time, she thought, before his talk showed his cleverness, and yet each minute she believed in it more, quite apart from what her hostess had told her on first naming him. Perhaps he was one of the cases she had heard of at home those characteristic cases of people in England who concealed their play of mind so much more than they showed it. Even Mr. Densher a little did that.
"If you mean," she presently returned, "that he was unfortunately the one person we hadn't deceived, I can't contradict you." "No of course not. But why," Densher still risked, "was he unfortunately the one person ? He's not really a bit intelligent."
And that," she wound up, "is what I sit here and tell you about my own father. If you don't call it a proof of confidence I don't know what will satisfy you." "It satisfies me beautifully," Densher declared, "but it doesn't, my dear child, very greatly enlighten me. You don't, you know, really tell me anything. It's so vague that what am I to think but that you may very well be mistaken?
Densher at her heels or, so oddly perhaps, at Miss Croy's heels, Miss Croy being at Milly's had contributed to this effect, though it was only with the lapse of the greater obscurity that Susie made that out.
He forgot for the time the moment when, in Venice, at the palace, the encouraged young man had in a manner assisted at the departure of the disconcerted, since Lord Mark was not looking disconcerted now any more than he had looked from his bench at his café. Densher was thinking that he seemed to show as vagrant while another was ensconced.
Only her view of the right thing may not be the same as yours." "How can it be anything different if it's the view of serving you?" Densher for an instant, but only for an instant, hung fire. "Oh the difficulty is that I don't, upon my honour, even yet quite make out how yours does serve me." "It helps you put it then," said Kate very simply "to serve me. It gains you time." "Time for what?"
"It seems to me," Densher brought out after a moment's thought of this, "that it's in detail we deceive her" a speech that, as soon as he had uttered it, applied itself for him, as also visibly for his companion, to the afterglow of their recent embrace.
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