"You have been very quick in discovering that," said Deronda, ironically.
"I have not found out all the excellences you spoke of—I don't mean that," said Gwendolen; "but I think her singing is charming, and herself too. Her face is lovely—not in the least common; and she is such a complete little person. I should think she will be a great success."
This speech was grating to Deronda, and he would not answer it, but looked gravely before him. She knew that he was displeased with her, and she was getting so impatient under the neighbourhood of Mr Lush, which prevented her from saying any word she wanted to say, that she meditated some desperate step to get rid of it, and remained silent too. That constraint seemed to last a long while, neither Gwendolen nor Deronda looking at the other, till Lush slowly relieved the wall of his weight, and joined some one at a distance.
Gwendolen immediately said, "You despise me for talking artificially."
"No," said Deronda, looking at her coolly; "I think that is quite excusable sometimes. But I did not think what you were last saying was altogether artificial."
"There was something in it that displeased you," said Gwendolen. "What was it?"
