be the best thing to do with it--thought so
from her own point of view. That hadn't been at all my idea, but she
acted before I understood. I had, on the contrary," she explained, "put
it here, in full view, exactly that you might see."

He stood with his hands in his pockets; he had carried his eyes to the
fragments on the chimney-piece, and she could already distinguish the
element of relief, absolutely of succour, in his acceptance from her of
the opportunity to consider the fruits of their friend's violence--every
added inch of reflection and delay having the advantage, from this point
on, of counting for him double. It had operated within her now to the
last intensity, her glimpse of the precious truth that by her helping
him, helping him to help himself, as it were, she should help him to
help HER. Hadn't she fairly got into his labyrinth with him?--wasn't she
indeed in the very act of placing herself there, for him, at its centre
and core, whence, on that definite orientation and by an instinct all
her own, she might securely guide him out of it? She offered him thus,
assuredly, a kind of support that was not to have been imagined in
advance, and that moreover required--ah most truly!--some close looking
at before it could be believed in and pronounced void of treachery.
"Yes, look, look," she seemed to see him hear her say even while her
sounded words were other--"look, look, both at the truth that still
survives in that smashed evidence and at the even more remarkable
appearance that I'm not such a fool as you supposed me. Look at the
possibility that, since I AM different, there may still be something
in it for you--if you're capable of working with me to get that out.
Consider of course, as you must, the question of what you may have to
surrender, on your side, what price you may have to pay, whom you may
have to pay WITH, to set this advantage free; but take in, at any rate,
that there is something for you if you don't too blindly spoil your
chance for it." He went no nearer the damnatory pieces, but he eyed
them, from where he stood, with a degree of recognition just visibly
less to be dissimulated; all of which represented for her a certain
traceable process. And her uttered words, meanwhile, were different
enough from those he might have inserted between the lines of her
already-spoken. "It's the golden bowl, you know, that you saw at the
little antiquario's in Bloomsbury, so long ago--when you went there