THE WINGS OF THE DOVE
"Oh, don't make too little of him!" Kate smiled. "Do you pretend that Milly didn't tell you?"
"How great an ass he had made of himself?"
Kate continued to smile. "You are in love with her, you know."
He gave her another long look. "Why, since she has refused him, should my opinion of Lord Mark show it? I'm not obliged, however, to think well of him for such treatment of the other persons I've mentioned, and I feel I don't understand from you why Mrs. Lowder should."
"She doesn't—but she doesn't care," Kate explained. "You know perfectly the terms on which lots of London people live together even when they are supposed to live very well. He's not committed to us—he was having his try. Mayn't an unsatisfied man," she asked, "always have his try?"
"And come back afterwards, with confidence in a welcome, to the victim of his inconstancy?"
Kate consented, as for argument, to be thought of as a victim. "Oh, but he has had his try at me. So it's all right."
"Through your also having, you mean, refused him?"
She balanced an instant during which Densher might have just wondered if pure historic truth were to suffer a slight strain. But she dropped on the right side. "I haven't let it come to that. I've been too discouraging. Aunt Maud," she went on—now as lucid as ever—"considers, no doubt, that
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