THE GOLDEN BOWL
The Prince's first reference was in fact quite independently made. "I hope you satisfied yourself, before you had done, of what was the matter with that bowl."
"No indeed, I satisfied myself of nothing. Of nothing at least but that the more I looked at it the more I liked it, and that if you weren't so unaccommodating this would be just the occasion for your giving me the pleasure of accepting it."
He looked graver for her at this than he had looked all the morning. "Do you propose it seriously—without wishing to play me a trick?"
She wondered. "What trick would it be?"
He looked at her harder. "You mean you really don't know?"
"But know what?"
"Why what's the matter with it. You didn't see, all the while?"
She only continued however to stare. "How could you see—out in the street?"
"I saw before I went out. It was because I saw that I did go out. I didn't want to have another scene with you before that rascal, and I judged you'd presently guess for yourself."
"Is he a rascal?" Charlotte asked. "His price is so moderate." She waited but a moment. "Five pounds. Really so little."
He continued to look at her. "Five pounds?"
"Five pounds."
He might have been doubting her word, but he was only, it appeared, gathering emphasis. "It would be dear—to make a gift of—at five shillings. If it had
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