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Part II | Edith Wharton | |
Chapter XIV |
Page 4 of 5 |
"Oh, I don't know. Nowhere. I think I'm going back to Versailles." "Because I've disgusted you so deeply? Just my luck--when I came over to ask you to marry me!" She laughed, but he had become suddenly grave. "Upon my soul, I did." "Dear Streff! As if--now--" "Oh, not now--I know. I'm aware that even with your accelerated divorce methods--" "It's not that. I told you it was no use, Streff--I told you long ago, in Venice." He shrugged ironically. "It's not Streff who's asking you now. Streff was not a marrying man: he was only trifling with you. The present offer comes from an elderly peer of independent means. Think it over, my dear: as many days out as you like, and five footmen kept. There's not the least hurry, of course; but I rather think Nick himself would advise it." She flushed to the temples, remembering that Nick had; and the remembrance made Strefford's sneering philosophy seem less unbearable. Why should she not lunch with him, after all? In the first days of his mourning he had come to Paris expressly to see her, and to offer her one of the oldest names and one of the greatest fortunes in England. She thought of Ursula Gillow, Ellie Vanderlyn, Violet Melrose, of their condescending kindnesses, their last year's dresses, their Christmas cheques, and all the careless bounties that were so easy to bestow and so hard to accept. "I should rather enjoy paying them back," something in her maliciously murmured. She did not mean to marry Strefford--she had not even got as far as contemplating the possibility of a divorce but it was undeniable that this sudden prospect of wealth and freedom was like fresh air in her lungs. She laughed again, but now without bitterness. "Very good, then; we'll lunch together. But it's Streff I want to lunch with to-day." |
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The Glimpses of the Moon Edith Wharton |
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