etely master of this
creature--this piquant combination of maidenliness and mischief: that
she knew things which had made her start away from him, spurred him to
triumph over that repugnance; and he was believing that he should
triumph. And she--ah, piteous equality in the need to dominate!--she
was overcome like the thirsty one who is drawn toward the seeming water
in the desert, overcome by the suffused sense that here in this man's
homage to her lay the rescue from helpless subjection to an oppressive
lot.

All the while they were looking at each other; and Grandcourt said,
slowly and languidly, as if it were of no importance, other things
having been settled--

"You will tell me now, I hope, that Mrs. Davilow's loss of fortune will
not trouble you further. You will trust me to prevent it from weighing
upon her. You will give me the claim to provide against that."

The little pauses and refined drawlings with which this speech was
uttered, gave time for Gwendolen to go through the dream of a life. As
the words penetrated her, they had the effect of a draught of wine,
which suddenly makes all things easier, desirable things not so wrong,
and people in general less disagreeable. She had a momentary phantasmal
love for this man who chose his words so well, and who was a mere
incarnation of delicate homage. Repugnance, dread, scruples--these were
dim as remembered pains, while she was already tasting relief under the
immediate pain of hopelessness. She imagined herself already springing
to her mother, and being playful again. Yet when Grandcourt had ceased
to speak, there was an instant in which she was conscious of being at
the turning of the ways.

"You are very generous," she said, not moving her eyes, and speaking
with a gentle intonation.

"You accept what will make such things a matter of course?" said
Grandcourt, without any new eagerness. "You consent to become my wife?"

This time Gwendolen remained quite pale. Something made her rise from
her seat in spite of herself and walk to a little distance. Then she
turned and with her hands folded before her stood in silence.

Grandcourt immediately rose too, resting his hat on the chair, but
still keeping hold of it. The evident hesitation of this destitute girl
to take his splendid offer stung him into a keenness of interest such
as he had not known for years. None the less because he attributed her
hesitation entirely to her knowledge about Mrs. Glasher. In t