Maud repeated her motion. “Not so right, at all events, as he thinks he is. Or perhaps I can say,” she went on, after an instant, “that I`m not so wrong. I do know a little what I`m talking about.”
Mrs. Dyott continued to study her. “You are vexed. You naturally don`t like it such destruction.”
“Destruction?”
“Of your illusion.”
“I have no illusion. If I had, moreover, it wouldn`t be destroyed. I have, on the whole, I think, my little decency.”
Mrs. Dyott stared. “Let us grant it for argument. What, then?” “Well, I`ve also my little drama.”
“An attachment?”
“An attachment.”
“That you shouldn`t have?”
“That I shouldn`t have.”
“A passion?”
“A passion.”
“Shared?”
“Ah, thank goodness, no!”
Mrs. Dyott continued to gaze. “The object`s unaware- “Utterly.”
Mrs. Dyott turned it over. “Are you sure?”
“Sure.”
“That`s what you call your decency? But isn`t it,” Mrs. Dyott asked, “rather his?”
“Dear, no. It`s only his good fortune.”
Mrs. Dyott laughed. “But yours, darling your good fortune: where does that come in?”
“Why, in my sense of the romance of it.”
“The romance of what? Of his not knowing?”
“Of my not wanting him to. If I did” Maud had touchingly worked it out “where would be my honesty?”
Almost Amusement
The inquiry, for an instant, held her friend; yet only, it seemed, for; stupefaction that was almost amusement. “Can you want or not want as you like? Where in the world, if you don`t want, is your romance?” Mrs. Blessingbourne still wore her smile, and she now, with a light gesture that matched it, just touched the region of her heart. “There!” Her companion admiringly marveled. “A lovely place for it, no doubt! but not quite a place, that I can see, to make the sentiment a relation.”
“Why not? What more is required for a relation for me?”
“Oh, all sorts of things, I should say! And many more, added to those, to make it one for the person you mention.”
“Ah, that I don`t pretend it either should be or can be. I only speak for myself.”
It was said in a manner that made Mrs. Dyott, with a visible mixture of impressions, suddenly turn away. She indulged in a vague movement or two, as if to look for something; then again found herself near her friend, on whom with the same abruptness, in fact with a strange sharpness, she conferred a kiss that might have represented either her tribute to exalted consistency or her idea of a graceful close of the discussion. “You deserve that one should speak for you!”
Read More about The Story in it part 11
