Book contents
- Frontmatter
- Contents
- List of Illustrations
- Acknowledgments
- List of Abbreviations
- General Editors’ Preface
- General Chronology of James’s Life and Writings
- Introduction
- Textual Introduction
- Chronology of Composition and Production
- Bibliography
- The Portrait of a Lady
- Glossary of Foreign Words and Phrases
- Notes
- Textual Variants
- Emendations
- Appendices
Chapter 37
Published online by Cambridge University Press: 11 April 2021
- Frontmatter
- Contents
- List of Illustrations
- Acknowledgments
- List of Abbreviations
- General Editors’ Preface
- General Chronology of James’s Life and Writings
- Introduction
- Textual Introduction
- Chronology of Composition and Production
- Bibliography
- The Portrait of a Lady
- Glossary of Foreign Words and Phrases
- Notes
- Textual Variants
- Emendations
- Appendices
Summary
PANSY was not in the first of the rooms, a large apartment with a concave ceiling and walls covered with old red damask; it was here that Mrs. Osmond usually sat—though she was not in her usually customary place to-night—and that a circle of more especial intimates gathered about the fire. The room was warm, with a sort of subdued brightness; it contained the larger things, and—almost always—an odour of flowers. Pansy on this occasion was presumably in the chamber beyond, the resort of younger visitors, where tea was served. Osmond stood before the chimney, leaning back, with his hands behind him; he had one foot up and was warming the sole. Half-a-dozen people, scattered near him, were talking together; but he was not in the conversation; his eyes were fixed, abstractedly. Rosier, coming in unannounced, failed to attract his attention; but the young man, who was very punctilious, though he was even exceptionally conscious that it was the wife, not the husband, he had come to see, went up to shake hands with him. Osmond put out his left hand, without changing his attitude.
“How d’ye do? My wife's somewhere about.”
“Never fear; I shall find her,” said Rosier, cheerfully.
Osmond stood looking at him; he had never before felt the keenness of this gentleman's eyes. “Madame Merle has told him, and he doesn't like it,” Rosier said to himself. He had hoped Madame Merle would be there; but she was not within sight; perhaps she was in one of the other rooms, or would come later. He had never especially delighted in Gilbert Osmond; he had a fancy that he gave himself airs. But Rosier was not quickly resentful, and where politeness was concerned he had an inveterate wish to be in the right. He looked round him, smiling, and then, in a moment, he said—
“I saw a jolly good piece of Capo di Monte to-day.”
Osmond answered nothing at first; but presently, while he warmed his boot-sole, “I don't care a fig for Capo di Monte!” he returned.
“I hope you are not losing your interest?”
“In old pots and plates? Yes, I am losing my interest.”
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- The Portrait of a Lady , pp. 354 - 363Publisher: Cambridge University PressPrint publication year: 2016