ght it much better not. It was this idea of the
episode which was possibly in store for her in New York, and from which
her present companion would be so completely excluded, that worked upon
her now with a rapid transition, urging her to grant him what he asked,
so that in advance she should have made up for what she might not do for
him later. But most of all she disliked his thinking she was engaged to
some one. She didn't know, it is true, why she should mind it; and
indeed, at this moment, our young lady's feelings were not in any way
clear to her. She did not see what was the use of letting her
acquaintance with Mr. Ransom become much closer (since his interest did
really seem personal); and yet she presently asked him why he wanted her
to go out with him, and whether there was anything particular he wanted
to say to her (there was no one like Verena for making speeches
apparently flirtatious, with the best faith and the most innocent
intention in the world); as if that would not be precisely a reason to
make it well she should get rid of him altogether.
"Of course I have something particular to say to you--I have a
tremendous lot to say to you!" the young man exclaimed. "Far more than I
can say in this stuck-up, confined room, which is public, too, so that
any one may come in from one moment to another. Besides," he added
sophistically, "it isn't proper for me to pay a visit of three hours."
Verena did not take up the sophistry, nor ask him whether it would be
more proper for her to ramble about the city with him for an equal
period; she only said, "Is it something that I shall care to hear, or
that will do me any good?"
"Well, I hope it will do you good; but I don't suppose you will care
much to hear it." Basil Ransom hesitated a moment, smiling at her; then
he went on: "It's to tell you, once for all, how much I really do differ
from you!" He said this at a venture, but it was a happy inspiration.
If it was only that, Verena thought she might go, for that was not
personal. "Well, I'm glad you care so much," she answered musingly. But
she had another scruple still, and she expressed it in saying that she
should like Olive very much to find her when she came in.
"That's all very well," Ransom returned; "but does she think that she
only has a right to go out? Does she expect you to keep the house
because she's abroad? If she stays out long enough, she will find you
when she comes in."
"Her going out th
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