Отель с привидениями

Chapter XXII

           ’SupposeIinformmyself,’shethought,’onthesubjectofVenice?’

           Herattentionwanderedfromthebook,beforeshehadturnedthefirstpageofit.

           TheimageofHenryWestwickwasthepresidingimageinhermemorynow.Recallingtheminutestincidentsanddetailsoftheevening,shecouldthinkofnothingwhichpresentedhimunderotherthanafavourableandinterestingaspect.Shesmiledtoherselfsoftly,hercolourrosebyfinegradations,asshefeltthefullluxuryofdwellingontheperfecttruthandmodestyofhisdevotiontoher.Wasthedepressionofspiritsfromwhichshehadsufferedsopersistentlyonhertravelsattributable,byanychance,totheirlongseparationfromeachother—embitteredperhapsbyherownvainregretwhensherememberedherharshreceptionofhiminParis?Suddenlyconsciousofthisboldquestion,andoftheself-abandonmentwhichitimplied,shereturnedmechanicallytoherbook,distrustingtheunrestrainedlibertyofherownthoughts.Whatlurkingtemptationstoforbiddentendernessfindtheirhiding-placesinawoman’sdressing-gown,whensheisaloneinherroomatnight!WithherheartinthetombofthedeadMontbarry,couldAgneseventhinkofanotherman,andthinkoflove?Howshameful!howunworthyofher!Forthesecondtime,shetriedtointerestherselfintheguide-book—andoncemoreshetriedinvain.Throwingthebookaside,sheturneddesperatelytotheoneresourcethatwasleft,toherluggage—resolvedtofatigueherselfwithoutmercy,untilshewaswearyenoughandsleepyenoughtofindasaferefugeinbed.

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