What I craved and
what I was glad to keep was our daily association. And now while she
always invited Uncle Tom to be with us and he more and more went his own
way, Isabel turned to Reverdy and arranged for him to accompany us about
Rome and into the country, once to Hadrian's Villa, once to Ostia where
we looked upon the sea. It did not seem to me that Isabel sought to keep
me at a distance and to bring in Reverdy as an influence to that end.
She took such great delight in having him with us. It seemed only to
happen that he went with us. It was not always so. And it was all quite
natural.
We had thus become friends in the profoundest sense. Once she referred
to Pinturicchio saying: "If you feel that you could have loved that
man, don't you see that the same feeling can exist between a man and a
woman? I am talking of that unity of two minds out of which the finest
emotions come; and in the case of artists the noblest works. Love is not
just passional love, just this flame that burns so brightly and then
dies. It may be a flame that has no material sustenance, or so slight
that we are not subtle enough to discern it; a flame that feeds on
flame, unites with another flame and grows brighter for the union; and
finds in the flame a substitute for oil. Friendship is what I mean--or
love may be a better word.
Pages:
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382