VOLUME II
51. CHAPTER LI
(continued)
"Because I've been so bored with your not knowing. I've been
bored, frankly, my dear, with not having told you; as if,
stupidly, all this time I couldn't have managed! Ca me depasse,
if you don't mind my saying so, the things, all round you, that
you've appeared to succeed in not knowing. It's a sort of
assistance--aid to innocent ignorance--that I've always been a
bad hand at rendering; and in this connexion, that of keeping
quiet for my brother, my virtue has at any rate finally found
itself exhausted. It's not a black lie, moreover, you know," the
Countess inimitably added. "The facts are exactly what I tell
you."
"I had no idea," said Isabel presently; and looked up at her in a
manner that doubtless matched the apparent witlessness of this
confession.
"So I believed--though it was hard to believe. Had it never
occurred to you that he was for six or seven years her lover?"
"I don't know. Things HAVE occurred to me, and perhaps that was
what they all meant."
"She has been wonderfully clever, she has been magnificent, about
Pansy!" the Countess, before all this view of it, cried.
"Oh, no idea, for me," Isabel went on, "ever DEFINITELY took that
form." She appeared to be making out to herself what had been and
what hadn't. "And as it is--I don't understand."
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