"I don＇t think I know what Mr. Osmond＇s favourite subjects are," said Isabel, who had risen to her feet.
The Countess assumed for an instant an attitude of intense meditation, pressing one of her hands, with the 昀nger-tips gathered together, to her forehead. "I＇ll tell you in a moment. One＇s Machiavelli; the other＇s Vittoria Colonna; the next is Metastasio."
"Ah, with me," said Madame Merle, passing her arm into the Countess Gemini＇s as if to guide her course to the garden, "Mr. Osmond＇s never so historical."