That evening Mrs. Davilow said, "Was it really so, or only a joke of yours, about Mr. Deronda's spoiling your play, Gwen?"
Her curiosity had been excited, and she could venture to ask a question that did not concern Mr. Grandcourt.
"Oh, it merely happened that he was looking on when I began to lose," said Gwendolen, carelessly. "I noticed him."
"I don't wonder at that: he is a striking young man. He puts me in mind of Italian paintings. One would guess, without being told, that there was foreign blood in his veins."
"Is there?" said Gwendolen.

That evening Mrs. Davilow said, "Did Mr. Deronda really spoil your play, Gwen?"
"Oh, it merely happened that he was looking on when I began to lose," said Gwendolen, carelessly. "I noticed him."
"I don't wonder: he is a striking young man. He puts me in mind of Italian paintings. One would guess, without being told, that there was foreign blood in his veins."
"Is there?"
