One instance in which Grandcourt stimulated a feeling in Gwendolen that he would have liked to suppress without seeming to care about it, had relation to Mirah. Gwendolen's inclination lingered over the project of the singing lessons as a sort of obedience to Deronda's advice, but day followed day with that want of perceived leisure which belongs to lives where there is no work to mark off intervals; and the continual liability to Grandcourt's presence and surveillance seemed to flatten every effort to the level of the boredom which his manner expressed; his negative mind was as diffusive as fog, clinging to all objects, and spoiling all contact.
But one morning when they were breakfasting, Gwendolen, in a recurrent fit of determination to exercise the old spirit, said, dallying prettily over her prawns without eating them,
"I think of making myself accomplished while we are in town, and having singing lessons."
"Why?" said Grandcourt, languidly.
"Why?" echoed Gwendolen, playing at sauciness; "because I can't eat _pt de foie gras_ to make me sleepy, and I can't smoke, and I can't go to the club to make me like to come away again--I want a variety of _ennui_. What would be the most convenient time, when you are busy with your lawyers and people, for me to have lessons from that little Jewess, whose singing is getting all the rage."
"Whenever you like," said Grandcourt, pushing away his plate, and leaning back in his chair while he looked at her with his most lizard-like expression and, played with the ears of the tiny spaniel on his lap (Gwendolen had taken a dislike to the dogs because they fawned on him).

Gwendolen considered taking singing lessons from Mirah as a sort of obedience to Deronda's advice, but as day followed leisurely day, Grandcourt's presence seemed to flatten every effort to the level of his own boredom. His negative mind was as diffusive as fog, clinging to all objects, and spoiling all contact.
But one morning at breakfast, Gwendolen, determined to show her old spirit, said-
"I think of making myself accomplished while we are in town, and having singing lessons."
"Why?" said Grandcourt, languidly.
"Why?" echoed Gwendolen, playing at sauciness; "because I can't smoke, and I can't go to the club - I want a variety of ennui. What would be the most convenient time, when you are busy with your lawyers, for me to have lessons from that little Jewess whose singing is all the rage?"
"Whenever you like," said Grandcourt, pushing away his plate, and leaning back while he looked at her with his most lizard-like expression and played with the ears of the tiny spaniel on his lap (Gwendolen had taken a dislike to the dogs because they fawned on him). 