", I had by this time formed the habit of having Mrs. Groseliterally well in hand in advance of my sounding that note;so that even now, as she bravely blinked under the signalof my word, I could keep her comparatively firm. "Infernal, then!" His answers rang out with a readiness! I have kept to this day the heartbreaking little ideaof how he seemed to know that and to play with it.
“She did wish to learn, and she did learn. Such things naturally left on the surface, for the time, a chill which we vociferously denied that we felt; and we had, all three, with repetition, got into such splendid training that we went, each time, almost automatically, to mark the close of the incident, through the very same movements. It was all very well to join them, but speaking to them proved quite as much as ever an effort beyond my strength—offered, in close quarters, difficulties as insurmountable as before. "Oh, miss, in pity do," my friend broke out. What it was most impossible to get rid of was the cruel idea that, whatever I had seen, Miles and Flora saw more—things terrible and unguessable and that sprang from dreadful passages of intercourse in the past.
The Turn of the Screw, by Henry James - Full Text Free Book File size: 0.3 MB What's this? I can say now neither what determined nor what guided me, but I wentstraight along the lobby, holding my candle high, till I came within sightof the tall window that presided over the great turn of the staircase.At this point I precipitately found myself aware of three things.They were practically simultaneous, yet they had flashes of succession.My candle, under a bold flourish, went out, and I perceived, by the uncoveredwindow, that the yielding dusk of earliest morning rendered it unnecessary.Without it, the next instant, I saw that there was someone on the stair.I speak of sequences, but I required no lapse of seconds to stiffenmyself for a third encounter with Quint. "I say, you there--come in." "Do?" What, under myendless obsession, I had been impelled to listen for was somebetrayal of his not being at rest, and I presently caught one,but not in the form I had expected. As I'm not a fiend,at any rate, I shouldn't take him in. "And if he was so bad then as that comes to, how is he such an angel now?
He looked, while I waited, at the graves. "he asked with a grace of sociability in which it occurredto me that Mrs. Grose, had she been present, might have lookedin vain for proof that anything was "out. What he would now permit this office to consist of was yet to be settled: there was at the least a queer relief—I mean for myself in especial—in the renouncement of one pretension. We went straight to the lake, as it was called at Bly, and I daresayrightly called, though I reflect that it may in fact have been a sheetof water less remarkable than it appeared to my untraveled eyes.My acquaintance with sheets of water was small, and the poolof Bly, at all events on the few occasions of my consenting,under the protection of my pupils, to affront its surfacein the old flat-bottomed boat moored there for our use,had impressed me both with its extent and its agitation.The usual place of embarkation was half a mile from the house,but I had an intimate conviction that, wherever Flora might be,she was not near home.
Would exasperation, however, if relief had longer been postponed, finally have betrayed me? Regular lessons, in this agitation, certainly suffered some wrong; I reflected that my first duty was, by the gentlest arts I could contrive, to win the child into the sense of knowing me. She passed that night, by the most tacit,and I should add, were not the word so grotesque a false note,the happiest of arrangements, with Mrs. Grose. The Turn of the Screw is an 1898 horror novella by Henry James that first appeared in serial format in Collier's Weekly magazine (January 27 – April 16, 1898). Miles, before he sat down, stood a moment with his hands in his pockets and looked at the joint, on which he seemed on the point of passing some humorous judgment. They pulled with an art of their own the strings of my invention and my memory; and nothing else perhaps, when I thought of such occasions afterward, gave me so the suspicion of being watched from under cover.
“I will—and I will!” cried the ladies whose departure had been fixed. “Won’t you tell, Douglas?” somebody else enquired. "Yes, you're getting on." They harassed me so that sometimes, at odd moments, I shut myself up audibly to rehearse—it was at once a fantastic relief and a renewed despair—the manner in which I might come to the point.
The Turn of the Screw, by Henry James Part 1 out of 3. "They don't know, as yet, quite how--but they're trying hard.They're seen only across, as it were, and beyond--in strange placesand on high places, the top of towers, the roof of houses, the outsideof windows, the further edge of pools; but there's a deep design,on either side, to shorten the distance and overcome the obstacle;and the success of the tempters is only a question of time.They've only to keep to their suggestions of danger. He had for his town residence a big house filled with the spoils of travel and the trophies of the chase; but it was to his country home, an old family place in Essex, that he wished her immediately to proceed. she returned, almost with the full privilegeof childish inconsequence, resentfully, though with a longsweetness in her little drawl of the negative. A very few of them,in fact, passing, in constant sight of my pupils,without a fresh incident, sufficed to give to grievous fanciesand even to odious memories a kind of brush of the sponge.I have spoken of the surrender to their extraordinarychildish grace as a thing I could actively cultivate,and it may be imagined if I neglected now to address myselfto this source for whatever it would yield. As they died away on my lips, I said to myselfthat I should indeed help them to represent something infamous,if, by pronouncing them, I should violate as rare a little caseof instinctive delicacy as any schoolroom, probably, had ever known.When I said to myself: "THEY have the manners to be silent,and you, trusted as you are, the baseness to speak! To watch, teach, “form” little Flora would too evidently be the making of a happy and useful life. There was a greatstill moon to help her, and this fact had counted in my quick decision.She was face to face with the apparition we had met at the lake,and could now communicate with it as she had not then been able to do.What I, on my side, had to care for was, without disturbing her,to reach, from the corridor, some other window in the same quarter.I got to the door without her hearing me; I got out of it, closed it,and listened, from the other side, for some sound from her.While I stood in the passage I had my eyes on her brother's door,which was but ten steps off and which, indescribably, produced in mea renewal of the strange impulse that I lately spoke of as my temptation.What if I should go straight in and march to HIS window?--what if,by risking to his boyish bewilderment a revelation of my motive,I should throw across the rest of the mystery the long halterof my boldness? What I had undertaken was the whole care of her, and she had remained just this last time with Mrs. Grose only as an effect of our consideration for my inevitable strangeness and her natural timidity. She sent me the pages in question before she died.” They were all listening now, and of course there was somebody to be arch, or at any rate to draw the inference. ", I stared. It sufficiently stuck out that, by tacit little tricks in which even more than myself he carried out the care for my dignity, I had had to appeal to him to let me off straining to meet him on the ground of his true capacity.
My companion stared at the vacant mooring place and then again acrossthe lake. The whole thing took indeed more nights than one, but on the first occasion the same lady put another question. "But for what? She said, `Oh, of course, of course!'
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