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Updated: May 23, 2025
This latter trophy ticked at present on the marble slab of a commode that exactly matched it in splendour and style. Mrs. Assingham took it, the bowl, as a fine thing; but the question was obviously not of its intrinsic value, and she kept off from it, admiring it at a distance. "But what has that to do ?" "It has everything. You'll see."
Therefore !" But he had said enough. "Ecco!" he simply smiled. It was not to be concealed that he worked upon her, but of course she had always liked him. "I should be interested," she presently remarked, "to see some sense you don't possess." Well, he produced one on the spot. "The moral, dear Mrs. Assingham. I mean, always, as you others consider it.
Assingham presumed to object. "Doesn't it moreover then," she asked, "complete the very purpose with which he married that of making you and leaving you more free?" Maggie looked at her long. "Yes I help him to do that." Mrs. Assingham hesitated, but at last her bravery flared. "Why not call it then frankly his complete success?" "Well," said Maggie, "that's all that's left me to do."
He found himself therefore saying, with gaiety, even to Fanny Assingham, for their common, concerned glance at Eaton Square, the glance that was so markedly never, as it might have been, a glance at Portland Place: "What WOULD our cari sposi have made of it here? what would they, you know, really?" which overflow would have been reckless if, already, and surprisingly perhaps even to himself, he had not got used to thinking of this friend as a person in whom the element of protest had of late been unmistakably allayed.
There were moments when he felt his own boat move upon some such mystery. The state of mind of his new friends, including Mrs. Assingham herself, had resemblances to a great white curtain. He had never known curtains but as purple even to blackness but as producing where they hung a darkness intended and ominous.
"What I should rather say is does he know how much?" She found it still awkward. "How much, I mean, they did. How far" she touched it up "they went." Maggie had waited, but only with a question. "Do you think he does?" "Know at least something? Oh, about him I can't think. He's beyond me," said Fanny Assingham. "Then do you yourself know?" "How much ?" "How much." "How far ?" "How far."
The point is," Fanny declared, "that, whatever his knowledge, it made, all the way it went, for his good faith." Maggie continued to gaze, and her friend now fairly waited on her successive movements. "Isn't the point, very considerably, that his good faith must have been his faith in her taking almost as much interest in me as he himself took?" Fanny Assingham thought.
Fanny had appeared to wish to make sure, but there was something she remembered remembered in time and even with a smile. "I've told you before that I know absolutely nothing." "Well that's what I know," said the Princess. Her friend again hesitated. "Then nobody knows ? I mean," Mrs. Assingham explained, "how much your father does." Oh, Maggie showed that she understood. "Nobody."
Don't you understand," she asked, "that the history of such people is known, root and branch, at every moment of its course?" "Oh, it's all right," said Bob Assingham. "Go to the British Museum," his companion continued with spirit. "And what am I to do there?" "There's a whole immense room, or recess, or department, or whatever, filled with books written about his family alone.
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