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Oh, she didn't speak of that. I don't think," she added as if she had been unconsciously giving a wrong impression, "I don't think Mrs. Condrip imagines she's in love." It made Mrs. Stringham stare in turn. "Then what's her fear?" "Well, only the fact of Mr. Densher's possibly himself keeping it up the fear of some final result from that.
Venice was at breakfast, the Venice of the visitor and the possible acquaintance, and, except for the parties of importunate pigeons picking up the crumbs of perpetual feasts, their prospect was clear and they could see their companions hadn't yet been, and weren't for a while longer likely to be, disgorged by the lace-shop, in one of the loggie, where, shortly before, they had left them for a look-in the expression was artfully Densher's at Saint Mark's.
Nothing, if they hadn't taken it so, could have exceeded the unexplained oddity, between them, of Densher's now complete detachment from the poor ladies at the palace; nothing could have exceeded the no less marked anomaly of the great man's own abstentions of speech.
Stringham. Densher's act on receipt of the document in question an act as to which and to the bearings of which his resolve had had time to mature constituted in strictness, singularly enough, the first reference to Milly, or to what Milly might or might not have done, that had passed between our pair since they had stood together watching the destruction, in the little vulgar grate at Chelsea, of the undisclosed work of her hand.
He has some rooms which he has had suddenly some rather advantageous chance to let such as, with his confessed, his decidedly proclaimed want of money, he hasn't had it in him, in spite of everything, not to jump at." Densher's attention was entire. "In spite of everything? In spite of what?" "Well, I don't know. In spite, say, of his being scarcely supposed to do that sort of thing."
Densher's mother, it further appeared, had practised on her side a distinguished industry, to the success of which so far as success ever crowned it this period of exile had much contributed: she copied, patient lady, famous pictures in great museums, having begun with a happy natural gift and taking in betimes the scale of her opportunity. Copyists abroad of course swarmed, but Mrs.
Densher's having been there having been where she had stood till now in her simplicity before her. It would have taken but another free moment to make her see abysses since abysses were what she wanted in the mere circumstance of his own silence, in New York, about his English friends.
As soon as their friends should go Susie would break out, and what she would break out upon wouldn't be interested in that gentleman as she had more than once shown herself the personal fact of Mr. Densher. Milly had found in her face at luncheon a feverish glitter, and it told what she was full of. She didn't care now for Mr. Densher's personal fact. Mr.
Conceal from Milly that an old engagement holds between her two friends, persuade her that neither has any interest in the other, and all will go well. Milly, believing in Densher's candour, will fall into the plot and enjoy her brief happiness. It cannot be more than brief, for Milly is certainly doomed. But when she dies, and Densher is free for Kate again, who will be the worse for the fraud?
It has not appeared as a statement or an announcement; Susan's appeal and Densher's tormented response to it are felt, establishing their presence as matters which the reader has lived with for the time. They have emerged out of the surface of the scene into form and relief. And finally the subject of the whole book is rendered in the same way.
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