THE GOLDEN BOWL
all want to come back so soon. He wanted quite too intensely to get away."
Mr. Verver considered. "Well, hasn't he been away?"
"Yes, just long enough to see how he likes it. Besides," said Charlotte, "he mayn't be able to join in the rosy view of our case that you impute to Maggie. It can't in the least have appeared to him hitherto a matter of course that you should give his wife a bouncing stepmother."
Adam Verver at this looked grave. "I'm afraid then he'll just have to accept from us whatever his wife accepts; and accept it—if he can imagine no better reason—just because she does. That," he declared, "will have to do for him."
His tone made her for a moment meet his face; after which, "Let me," she abruptly said, "see it again"—taking from him the folded leaf that she had given back and he had kept in his hand. "Isn't the whole thing," she asked when she had read it over, "perhaps but a way like another for their gaining time?"
He again stood staring; but the next minute, with that upward spring of his shoulders and that downward pressure of his pockets which she had already more than once at disconcerted moments determined in him, he turned sharply away and wandered from her in silence. He looked about in his small despair; he crossed the hotel court, which, overarched and glazed, muffled against loud sounds and guarded against crude sights, heated, gilded, draped, almost carpeted, with exotic trees in tubs, exotic ladies in
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