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Her
question
pulled
him
up
with
a
jerk
,
and
he
floundered
.
"
I
want
--
I
want
somehow
to
get
away
with
you
into
a
world
where
words
like
that
--
categories
like
that
--
wo
n't
exist
.
Where
we
shall
be
simply
two
human
beings
who
love
each
other
,
who
are
the
whole
of
life
to
each
other
;
and
nothing
else
on
earth
will
matter
.
"
She
drew
a
deep
sigh
that
ended
in
another
laugh
.
"
Oh
,
my
dear
--
where
is
that
country
?
Have
you
ever
been
there
?
"
she
asked
;
and
as
he
remained
sullenly
dumb
she
went
on
:
"
I
know
so
many
who
've
tried
to
find
it
;
and
,
believe
me
,
they
all
got
out
by
mistake
at
wayside
stations
:
at
places
like
Boulogne
,
or
Pisa
,
or
Monte
Carlo
--
and
it
was
n't
at
all
different
from
the
old
world
they
'd
left
,
but
only
rather
smaller
and
dingier
and
more
promiscuous
.
"
He
had
never
heard
her
speak
in
such
a
tone
,
and
he
remembered
the
phrase
she
had
used
a
little
while
before
.
"
Yes
,
the
Gorgon
HAS
dried
your
tears
,
"
he
said
.
"
Well
,
she
opened
my
eyes
too
;
it
's
a
delusion
to
say
that
she
blinds
people
.
What
she
does
is
just
the
contrary
--
she
fastens
their
eyelids
open
,
so
that
they
're
never
again
in
the
blessed
darkness
.
Is
n't
there
a
Chinese
torture
like
that
?
There
ought
to
be
.
Ah
,
believe
me
,
it
's
a
miserable
little
country
!
"
The
carriage
had
crossed
Forty-second
Street
:
May
's
sturdy
brougham-horse
was
carrying
them
northward
as
if
he
had
been
a
Kentucky
trotter
.
Archer
choked
with
the
sense
of
wasted
minutes
and
vain
words
.
"
Then
what
,
exactly
,
is
your
plan
for
us
?
"
he
asked
.
"
For
US
?
But
there
's
no
US
in
that
sense
!
We
're
near
each
other
only
if
we
stay
far
from
each
other
.
Then
we
can
be
ourselves
Otherwise
we
're
only
Newland
Archer
,
the
husband
of
Ellen
Olenska
's
cousin
,
and
Ellen
Olenska
,
the
cousin
of
Newland
Archer
's
wife
,
trying
to
be
happy
behind
the
backs
of
the
people
who
trust
them
.
"
"
Ah
,
I
'm
beyond
that
,
"
he
groaned
.
"
No
,
you
're
not
!
You
've
never
been
beyond
.
And
I
have
,
"
she
said
,
in
a
strange
voice
,
"
and
I
know
what
it
looks
like
there
.
"
He
sat
silent
,
dazed
with
inarticulate
pain
.
Then
he
groped
in
the
darkness
of
the
carriage
for
the
little
bell
that
signalled
orders
to
the
coachman
.
He
remembered
that
May
rang
twice
when
she
wished
to
stop
.
He
pressed
the
bell
,
and
the
carriage
drew
up
beside
the
curbstone
.
"
Why
are
we
stopping
?
This
is
not
Granny
's
,
"
Madame
Olenska
exclaimed
.
"
No
:
I
shall
get
out
here
,
"
he
stammered
,
opening
the
door
and
jumping
to
the
pavement
.
By
the
light
of
a
street-lamp
he
saw
her
startled
face
,
and
the
instinctive
motion
she
made
to
detain
him
.
He
closed
the
door
,
and
leaned
for
a
moment
in
the
window
.
"
You
're
right
:
I
ought
not
to
have
come
today
,
"
he
said
,
lowering
his
voice
so
that
the
coachman
should
not
hear
.
She
bent
forward
,
and
seemed
about
to
speak
;
but
he
had
already
called
out
the
order
to
drive
on
,
and
the
carriage
rolled
away
while
he
stood
on
the
corner
.
The
snow
was
over
,
and
a
tingling
wind
had
sprung
up
,
that
lashed
his
face
as
he
stood
gazing
.
Suddenly
he
felt
something
stiff
and
cold
on
his
lashes
,
and
perceived
that
he
had
been
crying
,
and
that
the
wind
had
frozen
his
tears.He
thrust
his
hands
in
his
pockets
,
and
walked
at
a
sharp
pace
down
Fifth
Avenue
to
his
own
house
.
That
evening
when
Archer
came
down
before
dinner
he
found
the
drawing-room
empty.He
and
May
were
dining
alone
,
all
the
family
engagements
having
been
postponed
since
Mrs.
Manson
Mingott
's
illness
;
and
as
May
was
the
more
punctual
of
the
two
he
was
surprised
that
she
had
not
preceded
him
.
He
knew
that
she
was
at
home
,
for
while
he
dressed
he
had
heard
her
moving
about
in
her
room
;
and
he
wondered
what
had
delayed
her.He
had
fallen
into
the
way
of
dwelling
on
such
conjectures
as
a
means
of
tying
his
thoughts
fast
to
reality
.
Sometimes
he
felt
as
if
he
had
found
the
clue
to
his
father-in-law
's
absorption
in
trifles
;
perhaps
even
Mr.
Welland
,
long
ago
,
had
had
escapes
and
visions
,
and
had
conjured
up
all
the
hosts
of
domesticity
to
defend
himself
against
them.When
May
appeared
he
thought
she
looked
tired
.
She
had
put
on
the
low-necked
and
tightly-laced
dinner-dress
which
the
Mingott
ceremonial
exacted
on
the
most
informal
occasions
,
and
had
built
her
fair
hair
into
its
usual
accumulated
coils
;
and
her
face
,
in
contrast
,
was
wan
and
almost
faded
.
But
she
shone
on
him
with
her
usual
tenderness
,
and
her
eyes
had
kept
the
blue
dazzle
of
the
day
before
.
"
What
became
of
you
,
dear
?
"
she
asked
.
"
I
was
waiting
at
Granny
's
,
and
Ellen
came
alone
,
and
said
she
had
dropped
you
on
the
way
because
you
had
to
rush
off
on
business
.
There
's
nothing
wrong
?
"
"
Only
some
letters
I
'd
forgotten
,
and
wanted
to
get
off
before
dinner
.
"
"
Ah
--
"
she
said
;
and
a
moment
afterward
:
"
I
'm
sorry
you
did
n't
come
to
Granny
's
--
unless
the
letters
were
urgent
.
"
"
They
were
,
"
he
rejoined
,
surprised
at
her
insistence
.
"
Besides
,
I
do
n't
see
why
I
should
have
gone
to
your
grandmother
's
.
I
did
n't
know
you
were
there
.
"
She
turned
and
moved
to
the
looking-glass
above
the
mantel-piece
.
As
she
stood
there
,
lifting
her
long
arm
to
fasten
a
puff
that
had
slipped
from
its
place
in
her
intricate
hair
,
Archer
was
struck
by
something
languid
and
inelastic
in
her
attitude
,
and
wondered
if
the
deadly
monotony
of
their
lives
had
laid
its
weight
on
her
also
.
Then
he
remembered
that
,
as
he
had
left
the
house
that
morning
,
she
had
called
over
the
stairs
that
she
would
meet
him
at
her
grandmother
's
so
that
they
might
drive
home
together
.
He
had
called
back
a
cheery
"
Yes
!
"
and
then
,
absorbed
in
other
visions
,
had
forgotten
his
promise
.
Now
he
was
smitten
with
compunction
,
yet
irritated
that
so
trifling
an
omission
should
be
stored
up
against
him
after
nearly
two
years
of
marriage
.
He
was
weary
of
living
in
a
perpetual
tepid
honeymoon
,
without
the
temperature
of
passion
yet
with
all
its
exactions
.
If
May
had
spoken
out
her
grievances
(
he
suspected
her
of
many
)
he
might
have
laughed
them
away
;
but
she
was
trained
to
conceal
imaginary
wounds
under
a
Spartan
smile.To
disguise
his
own
annoyance
he
asked
how
her
grandmother
was
,
and
she
answered
that
Mrs.
Mingott
was
still
improving
,
but
had
been
rather
disturbed
by
the
last
news
about
the
Beauforts
.
"
What
news
?
"
"
It
seems
they
're
going
to
stay
in
New
York
.
I
believe
he
's
going
into
an
insurance
business
,
or
something
.
They
're
looking
about
for
a
small
house
.
"
The
preposterousness
of
the
case
was
beyond
discussion
,
and
they
went
in
to
dinner
.
During
dinner
their
talk
moved
in
its
usual
limited
circle
;
but
Archer
noticed
that
his
wife
made
no
allusion
to
Madame
Olenska
,
nor
to
old
Catherine
's
reception
of
her
.
He
was
thankful
for
the
fact
,
yet
felt
it
to
be
vaguely
ominous.They
went
up
to
the
library
for
coffee
,
and
Archer
lit
a
cigar
and
took
down
a
volume
of
Michelet
.
He
had
taken
to
history
in
the
evenings
since
May
had
shown
a
tendency
to
ask
him
to
read
aloud
whenever
she
saw
him
with
a
volume
of
poetry
:
not
that
he
disliked
the
sound
of
his
own
voice
,
but
because
he
could
always
foresee
her
comments
on
what
he
read
.
In
the
days
of
their
engagement
she
had
simply
(
as
he
now
perceived
)
echoed
what
he
told
her
;
but
since
he
had
ceased
to
provide
her
with
opinions
she
had
begun
to
hazard
her
own
,
with
results
destructive
to
his
enjoyment
of
the
works
commented
on.Seeing
that
he
had
chosen
history
she
fetched
her
workbasket
,
drew
up
an
arm-chair
to
the
green-shaded
student
lamp
,
and
uncovered
a
cushion
she
was
embroidering
for
his
sofa
.
She
was
not
a
clever
needle-woman
;
her
large
capable
hands
were
made
for
riding
,
rowing
and
open-air
activities
;
but
since
other
wives
embroidered
cushions
for
their
husbands
she
did
not
wish
to
omit
this
last
link
in
her
devotion.She
was
so
placed
that
Archer
,
by
merely
raising
his
eyes
,
could
see
her
bent
above
her
work-frame
,
her
ruffled
elbow-sleeves
slipping
back
from
her
firm
round
arms
,
the
betrothal
sapphire
shining
on
her
left
hand
above
her
broad
gold
wedding-ring
,
and
the
right
hand
slowly
and
laboriously
stabbing
the
canvas
.
As
she
sat
thus
,
the
lamplight
full
on
her
clear
brow
,
he
said
to
himself
with
a
secret
dismay
that
he
would
always
know
the
thoughts
behind
it
,
that
never
,
in
all
the
years
to
come
,
would
she
surprise
him
by
an
unexpected
mood
,
by
a
new
idea
,
a
weakness
,
a
cruelty
or
an
emotion
.
She
had
spent
her
poetry
and
romance
on
their
short
courting
:
the
function
was
exhausted
because
the
need
was
past
.
Now
she
was
simply
ripening
into
a
copy
of
her
mother
,
and
mysteriously
,
by
the
very
process
,
trying
to
turn
him
into
a
Mr.
Welland
.
He
laid
down
his
book
and
stood
up
impatiently
;
and
at
once
she
raised
her
head
.
"
What
's
the
matter
?
"
"
The
room
is
stifling
:
I
want
a
little
air
.
"
He
had
insisted
that
the
library
curtains
should
draw
backward
and
forward
on
a
rod
,
so
that
they
might
be
closed
in
the
evening
,
instead
of
remaining
nailed
to
a
gilt
cornice
,
and
immovably
looped
up
over
layers
of
lace
,
as
in
the
drawing-room
;
and
he
pulled
them
back
and
pushed
up
the
sash
,
leaning
out
into
the
icy
night
.
The
mere
fact
of
not
looking
at
May
,
seated
beside
his
table
,
under
his
lamp
,
the
fact
of
seeing
other
houses
,
roofs
,
chimneys
,
of
getting
the
sense
of
other
lives
outside
his
own
,
other
cities
beyond
New
York
,
and
a
whole
world
beyond
his
world
,
cleared
his
brain
and
made
it
easier
to
breathe.After
he
had
leaned
out
into
the
darkness
for
a
few
minutes
he
heard
her
say
:
"
Newland
!
Do
shut
the
window
.
You
'll
catch
your
death
.
"
He
pulled
the
sash
down
and
turned
back
.
"
Catch
my
death
!
"
he
echoed
;
and
he
felt
like
adding
:
"
But
I
've
caught
it
already
.
I
AM
dead
--
I
've
been
dead
for
months
and
months
.
"
And
suddenly
the
play
of
the
word
flashed
up
a
wild
suggestion
.
What
if
it
were
SHE
who
was
dead
!
If
she
were
going
to
die
--
to
die
soon
--
and
leave
him
free
!
The
sensation
of
standing
there
,
in
that
warm
familiar
room
,
and
looking
at
her
,
and
wishing
her
dead
,
was
so
strange
,
so
fascinating
and
overmastering
,
that
its
enormity
did
not
immediately
strike
him
.
He
simply
felt
that
chance
had
given
him
a
new
possibility
to
which
his
sick
soul
might
cling
.
Yes
,
May
might
die
--
people
did
:
young
people
,
healthy
people
like
herself
:
she
might
die
,
and
set
him
suddenly
free.She
glanced
up
,
and
he
saw
by
her
widening
eyes
that
there
must
be
something
strange
in
his
own
.
"
Newland
!
Are
you
ill
?
"
He
shook
his
head
and
turned
toward
his
arm-chair
.
She
bent
over
her
work-frame
,
and
as
he
passed
he
laid
his
hand
on
her
hair
.
"
Poor
May
!
"
he
said
.
"
Poor
?
Why
poor
?
"
she
echoed
with
a
strained
laugh
.
"
Because
I
shall
never
be
able
to
open
a
window
without
worrying
you
,
"
he
rejoined
,
laughing
also.For
a
moment
she
was
silent
;
then
she
said
very
low
,
her
head
bowed
over
her
work
:
"
I
shall
never
worry
if
you
're
happy
.
"
"
Ah
,
my
dear
;
and
I
shall
never
be
happy
unless
I
can
open
the
windows
!
"
"
In
THIS
weather
?
"
she
remonstrated
;
and
with
a
sigh
he
buried
his
head
in
his
book.Six
or
seven
days
passed
.
Archer
heard
nothing
from
Madame
Olenska
,
and
became
aware
that
her
name
would
not
be
mentioned
in
his
presence
by
any
member
of
the
family
.
He
did
not
try
to
see
her
;
to
do
so
while
she
was
at
old
Catherine
's
guarded
bedside
would
have
been
almost
impossible
.
In
the
uncertainty
of
the
situation
he
let
himself
drift
,
conscious
,
somewhere
below
the
surface
of
his
thoughts
,
of
a
resolve
which
had
come
to
him
when
he
had
leaned
out
from
his
library
window
into
the
icy
night
.
The
strength
of
that
resolve
made
it
easy
to
wait
and
make
no
sign.Then
one
day
May
told
him
that
Mrs.
Manson
Mingott
had
asked
to
see
him
.
There
was
nothing
surprising
in
the
request
,
for
the
old
lady
was
steadily
recovering
,
and
she
had
always
openly
declared
that
she
preferred
Archer
to
any
of
her
other
grandsons-in-law
.
May
gave
the
message
with
evident
pleasure
:
she
was
proud
of
old
Catherine
's
appreciation
of
her
husband.There
was
a
moment
's
pause
,
and
then
Archer
felt
it
incumbent
on
him
to
say
:
"
All
right
.
Shall
we
go
together
this
afternoon
?
"
His
wife
's
face
brightened
,
but
she
instantly
answered
:
"
Oh
,
you
'd
much
better
go
alone
.
It
bores
Granny
to
see
the
same
people
too
often
.
"
Archer
's
heart
was
beating
violently
when
he
rang
old
Mrs.
Mingott
's
bell
.
He
had
wanted
above
all
things
to
go
alone
,
for
he
felt
sure
the
visit
would
give
him
the
chance
of
saying
a
word
in
private
to
the
Countess
Olenska
.
He
had
determined
to
wait
till
the
chance
presented
itself
naturally
;
and
here
it
was
,
and
here
he
was
on
the
doorstep
.
Behind
the
door
,
behind
the
curtains
of
the
yellow
damask
room
next
to
the
hall
,
she
was
surely
awaiting
him
;
in
another
moment
he
should
see
her
,
and
be
able
to
speak
to
her
before
she
led
him
to
the
sick-room
.
He
wanted
only
to
put
one
question
:
after
that
his
course
would
be
clear
.
What
he
wished
to
ask
was
simply
the
date
of
her
return
to
Washington
;
and
that
question
she
could
hardly
refuse
to
answer.But
in
the
yellow
sitting-room
it
was
the
mulatto
maid
who
waited
.
Her
white
teeth
shining
like
a
keyboard
,
she
pushed
back
the
sliding
doors
and
ushered
him
into
old
Catherine
's
presence.The
old
woman
sat
in
a
vast
throne-like
arm-chair
near
her
bed
.
Beside
her
was
a
mahogany
stand
bearing
a
cast
bronze
lamp
with
an
engraved
globe
,
over
which
a
green
paper
shade
had
been
balanced
.
There
was
not
a
book
or
a
newspaper
in
reach
,
nor
any
evidence
of
feminine
employment
:
conversation
had
always
been
Mrs.
Mingott
's
sole
pursuit
,
and
she
would
have
scorned
to
feign
an
interest
in
fancywork.Archer
saw
no
trace
of
the
slight
distortion
left
by
her
stroke
.
She
merely
looked
paler
,
with
darker
shadows
in
the
folds
and
recesses
of
her
obesity
;
and
,
in
the
fluted
mob-cap
tied
by
a
starched
bow
between
her
first
two
chins
,
and
the
muslin
kerchief
crossed
over
her
billowing
purple
dressing-gown
,
she
seemed
like
some
shrewd
and
kindly
ancestress
of
her
own
who
might
have
yielded
too
freely
to
the
pleasures
of
the
table.She
held
out
one
of
the
little
hands
that
nestled
in
a
hollow
of
her
huge
lap
like
pet
animals
,
and
called
to
the
maid
:
"
Do
n't
let
in
any
one
else
.
If
my
daughters
call
,
say
I
'm
asleep
.
"
The
maid
disappeared
,
and
the
old
lady
turned
to
her
grandson
.
"
My
dear
,
am
I
perfectly
hideous
?
"
she
asked
gaily
,
launching
out
one
hand
in
search
of
the
folds
of
muslin
on
her
inaccessible
bosom
.
"
My
daughters
tell
me
it
does
n't
matter
at
my
age
--
as
if
hideousness
did
n't
matter
all
the
more
the
harder
it
gets
to
conceal
!
"
"
My
dear
,
you
're
handsomer
than
ever
!
"
Archer
rejoined
in
the
same
tone
;
and
she
threw
back
her
head
and
laughed
.
"
Ah
,
but
not
as
handsome
as
Ellen
!
"
she
jerked
out
,
twinkling
at
him
maliciously
;
and
before
he
could
answer
she
added
:
"
Was
she
so
awfully
handsome
the
day
you
drove
her
up
from
the
ferry
?
"
He
laughed
,
and
she
continued
:
"
Was
it
because
you
told
her
so
that
she
had
to
put
you
out
on
the
way
?
In
my
youth
young
men
did
n't
desert
pretty
women
unless
they
were
made
to
!
"
She
gave
another
chuckle
,
and
interrupted
it
to
say
almost
querulously
:
"
It
's
a
pity
she
did
n't
marry
you
;
I
always
told
her
so
.
It
would
have
spared
me
all
this
worry
.
But
who
ever
thought
of
sparing
their
grandmother
worry
?
"
Archer
wondered
if
her
illness
had
blurred
her
faculties
;
but
suddenly
she
broke
out
:
"
Well
,
it
's
settled
,
anyhow
:
she
's
going
to
stay
with
me
,
whatever
the
rest
of
the
family
say
!
She
had
n't
been
here
five
minutes
before
I
'd
have
gone
down
on
my
knees
to
keep
her
--
if
only
,
for
the
last
twenty
years
,
I
'd
been
able
to
see
where
the
floor
was
!
"
Archer
listened
in
silence
,
and
she
went
on
:
"
They
'd
talked
me
over
,
as
no
doubt
you
know
:
persuaded
me
,
Lovell
,
and
Letterblair
,
and
Augusta
Welland
,
and
all
the
rest
of
them
,
that
I
must
hold
out
and
cut
off
her
allowance
,
till
she
was
made
to
see
that
it
was
her
duty
to
go
back
to
Olenski
.
