"
As I took possession of it I asked after Miss Bordereau's health;
expressed the hope that in spite of the very hot weather it was satisfactory.
She replied that it was good enough--good enough; that it was a great
thing to be alive.
"Oh, as to that, it depends upon what you compare it with!"
I exclaimed, laughing.
"I don't compare--I don't compare. If I did that I should have given
everything up long ago."
I liked to think that this was a subtle allusion to the rapture
she had known in the society of Jeffrey Aspern--though it
was true that such an allusion would have accorded ill with
the wish I imputed to her to keep him buried in her soul.
What it accorded with was my constant conviction that no human
being had ever had a more delightful social gift than his,
and what it seemed to convey was that nothing in the world
was worth speaking of if one pretended to speak of that.
But one did not! Miss Tita sat down beside her aunt,
looking as if she had reason to believe some very remarkable
conversation would come off between us.
"It's about the beautiful flowers," said the old lady;
"you sent us so many--I ought to have thanked you for them before.
But I don't write letters and I receive only at long intervals."
She had not thanked me while the flowers continued to come, but she
departed from her custom so far as to send for me as soon as she
began to fear that they would not come any more. I noted this;
I remembered what an acquisitive propensity she had shown when it
was a question of extracting gold from me, and I privately rejoiced
at the happy thought I had had in suspending my tribute.
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