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Updated: June 3, 2025
He expected that she had something especial to impart, and she lost no time in bringing forth her treasure. "Don't shout very loud," she said, "remember that we are in church; there 's a limit to the noise one may make even in Saint Peter's. Christina Light was married this morning to Prince Casamassima." Rowland did not shout at all; he gave a deep, short murmur: "Married this morning?"
"The girl is so deucedly dramatic," he said, "that I don't know what coup de theatre she may have in store for us. Such a stroke was her turning Catholic; such a stroke would be her some day making her courtesy to a disappointed world as Princess Casamassima, married at midnight, in her bonnet. She might do she may do something that would make even more starers! I 'm prepared for anything."
"Ah, then," said Rowland, "I am as much at sea as you, and my presence here is an impertinence. I should like to say three words to Miss Light on my own account. But I must absolutely and inexorably decline to urge the cause of Prince Casamassima. This is simply impossible." Mrs. Light burst into angry tears.
Christina returned his gaze, and for some moments there was a singular silence. "You don't look well!" Christina said at last. Roderick answered nothing; he only looked and looked, as if she had been a statue. "You are no less beautiful!" he presently cried. She turned away with a smile, and stood a while gazing down the valley; Roderick stared at Prince Casamassima.
"It would seem, then, that in the interest of Prince Casamassima himself I ought to refuse to interfere," said Rowland. Mrs. Light looked at him hard, slowly drying her eyes. The intensity of her grief and anger gave her a kind of majesty, and Rowland, for the moment, felt ashamed of the ironical ring of his observation. "Very good, sir," she said.
For a man who should really give me a certain feeling which I have never had, but which I should know when it came I would send Prince Casamassima and his millions to perdition. I don't know what you think of me for saying all this; I suppose we have not climbed up here under the skies to play propriety.
Do you suppose I would give Christina to a vicious person? do you suppose I would sacrifice my precious child, little comfort as I have in her, to a man against whose character one word could be breathed? Casamassima is only too good, he 's a saint of saints, he 's stupidly good! There is n't such another in the length and breadth of Europe.
They moved slowly to the door, and when they stood outside, in the sunny coolness of the valley, she turned to Rowland and said, "I am extremely glad to see you." Then she glanced about her and observed, against the wall of the church, an old stone seat. She looked at Prince Casamassima a moment, and he smiled more intensely, Rowland thought, than the occasion demanded.
She rose and stood silent a moment, looking down the valley. The figure of Prince Casamassima appeared in the distance, balancing his white umbrella. As her eyes rested upon it, Rowland imagined that he saw something deeper in the strange expression which had lurked in her face while he talked to her.
It was their choice; may they never repent!" "I shall hear of you," said Rowland. "You will hear of me. And whatever you do hear, remember this: I was sincere!" Prince Casamassima had approached, and Rowland looked at him with a good deal of simple compassion as a part of that "world" against which Christina had launched her mysterious menace.
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