The Golden Bowl - Henry James [56]
‘Because – on our basis – it would be impossible to give her an account of the pretext.’
‘The pretext –?’ He wondered.
‘The occasion. This ramble that we shall have had together and that we’re not to speak of.’
‘Oh yes,’ he said after a moment – ‘I remember we’re not to speak of it.’
‘That of course you’re pledged to. And the one thing, you see, goes with the other. So you don’t insist.’
He had again, at random, laid back his trinket; with which he quite turned to her a little wearily at last–even a little impatiently. ‘I don’t insist.’
It disposed for the time of the question, but what was next apparent was that it had seen them no further. The shopman, who hadn’t stirred, stood there in his patience – which, his mute intensity helping, had almost the effect of an ironic comment. The Prince moved to the glass door and, his back to the others, as with nothing more to contribute, looked – though not less patiently – into the street. Then the shopman, for Charlotte, momentously broke silence. ‘You’ve seen, disgraziatamente, signora principessa,’11 he sadly said, ‘too much’ – and it made the Prince face about. For the effect of the momentous came, if not from the sense, from the sound of his words; which was that of the suddenest sharpest Italian. Charlotte exchanged with her friend a glance that matched it, and just for the minute they were held in check. But their glance had after all by that time said more than one thing; had both exclaimed on the apprehension, by the wretch, of their intimate conversation, let alone of her possible, her impossible, title, and remarked, for mutual reassurance, that it didn’t, all the same, matter. The Prince remained by the door, but immediately addressing the speaker from where he stood.
‘You’re Italian then, are you?’
But the reply came in English. ‘Oh dear no.’
‘You’re English?’
To which the answer was this time, with a smile, in briefest Italian. ‘Che!’12 The dealer waived the question – he practically disposed of it by turning straightway toward a receptacle to which he hadn’t yet resorted and from which, after unlocking it, he extracted a square box, of some twenty inches in height, covered with worn-looking leather. He placed the box on the counter, pushed back a pair of small hooks, lifted the lid and removed from its nest a drinking-vessel larger than a common cup, yet not of exorbitant size, and formed, to appearance, either of old fine gold or of some material once richly gilt. He handled it with tenderness, with ceremony, making a place for it on a small satin mat. ‘My Golden Bowl,’ he observed – and it sounded on his lips as if it said everything. He left the important object – for as ‘important’ it did somehow present itself – to produce its certain effect. Simple but singularly elegant, it stood on a circular foot, a short pedestal with a slightly spreading base, and, though not of signal depth, justified its title by the charm of its shape as well as by the tone of its surface. It might have been a large goblet diminished, to the enhancement of its happy curve, by half its original height. As formed of solid gold it was impressive; it seemed indeed to warn off the prudent admirer. Charlotte, with care, immediately took it up, while the Prince, who had after a minute shifted his position again, regarded it from a distance.
It was heavier than Charlotte had thought. ‘Gold, really gold?’ she asked of their companion.
He waited. ‘Look a little, and perhaps you’ll make out.’
She looked, holding it up in both her fine hands, turning it to the light. ‘It may be cheap for what it is, but it will be dear, I’m afraid, for me.’
‘Well,’ said the man, ‘I can part with it for less than its value. I got it, you see, for less.’
‘For how much then?’
Again he waited, always with his serene stare. ‘Do you like it then?’
Charlotte turned to her friend. ‘Do you like it?’
He came no nearer; he looked at their entertainer. ‘Cos’è?’13
‘Well, signori miei,14 if you must know, it’s just a perfect crystal.’
‘Of course we must know, per Dio!’15 said the Prince. But he turned away again