The Story in it part 11

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Mrs. Dyott promptly echoed the question. “You have to be in, you know, to get out. So there you are already with your relation. It`s the end of your goodness.”

“And the beginning,” said Voyt, “of your play!”

“Aren`t they all, for that matter, even the worst,” Mrs. Dyott pursued, “supposed some time or other to get out? But if, meanwhile, they`ve been in, however briefly, long enough to adorn a tale”

“They`ve been in long enough to point a moral. That is to point ours!” With which, and as if a sudden flush of warmer light had moved him, Colonel Voyt got up. The veil of the storm had parted over a great red sunset.

Mrs. Dyott also was on her feet, and they stood before his charming antagonist who, with eyes lowered and a somewhat fixed smile, had not moved. “We`ve spoiled her subject!” the elder lady sighed.

“Well,” said Voyt, “it`s better to spoil an artist`s subject than to spoil his reputation. I mean,” he explained to Maud with his indulgent manner, “his appearance of knowing what he has got hold of, for that, in the last resort, is his happiness.”
She slowly rose at this, facing him with an aspect as handsomely mild as his own. “Ypu can`t spoil my happiness.”

Immediately

He held her hand an instant as he took leave. “I wish I could add to it!”
When he had quitted them and Mrs. Dyott had candidly asked if her friend had found him rude or crude, Maud replied though not immediately that she had feared showing only too much that she found him charming. But if Mrs. Dyott took this, it was to weigh the sense. “How could you show it too much?”

“Because I always feel that that`s my only way of showing anything. It`s absurd, if you like,” Mrs. Blessingbourne pursued, “but I never know, in such intense discussions, what strange impression I may give.” Her companion looked amused. “Was it intense?”

“It was,” Maud frankly confessed.

“Then it`s a pity you were so wrong. Colonel Voyt, you know, is right.” Mrs. Blessingbourne at this gave one of the slow, soft, silent headshakes to which she often resorted and which, mostly accompanied by the light of cheer, had somehow, in spite of the small obstinacy that smiled in them, a special grace. With this grace, for a moment, her friend, looking her up and down, appeared impressed, yet not too much so to take, the next minute, a decision. “Oh, my dear, I`m sorry to differ from anyone so lovely for you`re awfully beautiful to-night, and your frock`s the very nicest I`ve ever seen you wear. But he`s as right as he can be.”

Read More about The Ass in the Lion`s Skin 2

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