Part 34 (1/2)
”We can go and stay with _them_,” said Julia.
”They'll think I bring them an angel.” And Nick covered her white hand, which was resting on the stile, with his own large one.
”As they regard you yourself as an angel they'll take it as natural of you to a.s.sociate with your kind.”
”Oh _my_ kind!” he quite wailed, looking at the cows.
But his very extravagance perhaps saved it, and she turned away from him as if starting homeward, while he began to retrace his steps with her.
Suddenly she said: ”What did you mean that night in Paris?”
”That night----?”
”When you came to the hotel with me after we had all dined at that place with Peter.”
”What did I mean----?”
”About your caring so much for the fine arts. You seemed to want to frighten me.”
”Why should you have been frightened? I can't imagine what I had in my head: not now.”
”You _are_ vague,” said Julia with a little flush.
”Not about the great thing.”
”The great thing?”
”That I owe you everything an honest man has to offer. How can I care about the fine arts now?”
She stopped with lighted eyes on him. ”Is it because you think you _owe_ it--” and she paused, still with the heightened colour in her cheek, then went on--”that you've spoken to me as you did there?” She tossed her head toward the lake.
”I think I spoke to you because I couldn't help it.”
”You _are_ vague!” And she walked on again.
”You affect me differently from any other woman.”
”Oh other women----! Why shouldn't you care about the fine arts now?”
she added.
”There'll be no time. All my days and my years will be none too much for what you expect of me.”
”I don't expect you to give up anything. I only expect you to do more.”
”To do more I must do less. I've no talent.”
”No talent?”
”I mean for painting.”
Julia pulled up again. ”That's odious! You _have_--you must.”