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Updated: June 2, 2025
Verver's interest had been booked, established quickly enough their claim to engage the latter's attention; yet at what point of his past did our friend's memory, looking back and back, catch him, in any such place, thinking so much less of wares artfully paraded than of some other and quite irrelevant presence?
Charlotte had done that under immeasurably fewer difficulties indeed during the numerous months of their hymeneal absence from England, the period prior to that wonderful reunion of the couples, in the interest of the larger play of all the virtues of each, which was now bearing, for Mrs. Verver's stepdaughter at least, such remarkable fruit.
Verver's superiority to any such mistake she gave, characteristically, something like a toss of her head as marked a tribute to that lady's general grace, in all the conditions, as the personage referred to doubtless had ever received. "Ah, only Maggie!" With which the Colonel gave a short low gurgle. But it found his wife again prepared. "No not only Maggie.
Verver's tone was cheerfully pensive. "Well, I've given you, by MY move, all the trouble of having to." He liked the tenderness of her idea, and it made him, as she sat near him, pass his arm about her. "I guess I don't feel as if you had 'moved' very far. You've only moved next door." "Well," she continued, "I don't feel as if it were fair for me just to have given you a push and left you so.
Verver's marriage. You weren't at least in love with Charlotte." "Oh," Mrs. Assingham, at this, always brought out, "my hand in that is easily accounted for by my desire to be agreeable to HIM." "To Mr. Verver?"
"No nothing is incredible to me of people immensely in love." "Well, isn't Amerigo immensely in love?" She hesitated but as for the right expression of her sense of the degree but she after all adopted Mr. Verver's. "Immensely." "Then there you are!" She had another smile, however she wasn't there quite yet. "That isn't all that's wanted." "But what more?"
Verver's boat too? Why, but for Mr. Verver's boat, I should have been by this time" and his quick Italian gesture, an expressive direction and motion of his forefinger, pointed to deepest depths "away down, down, down."
Assingham could easily remember, was the most accomplished and obliging of public functionaries, whom every one knew and who knew every one who had from the first, in particular, lent himself freely, and for the love of art and history, to becoming one of the steadier lights of Mr. Verver's adventurous path.
Verver's reply; yet uttered in so explicitly jocose a relation to the possibilities of failure that even when, just afterwards, he wandered in his impatience to one of the long windows and passed out to the balcony, she asked herself but for a few seconds if reality, should she follow him, would overtake or meet her there.
What was this so important step he had just taken but the desire for some new history that should, so far as possible, contradict, and even if need be flatly dishonour, the old? If what had come to him wouldn't do he must MAKE something different. He perfectly recognised always in his humility that the material for the making had to be Mr. Verver's millions.
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