at there alone for five minutes, with plenty to think of; above all
with his sense of having suddenly been dropped by a charming woman
overlaid now by other impressions and in fact quite cleared and
indifferent. He hadn't yet had so quiet a surrender; he didn't in the
least care if nobody spoke to him more. He might have been, by his
attitude, in for something of a march so broad that the want of
ceremony with which he had just been used could fall into its place as
but a minor incident of the procession. Besides, there would be
incidents enough, as he felt when this term of contemplation was closed
by the reappearance of little Bilham, who stood before him a moment
with a suggestive "Well?" in which he saw himself reflected as
disorganised, as possibly floored. He replied with a "Well!" intended
to show that he wasn't floored in the least. No indeed; he gave it
out, as the young man sat down beside him, that if, at the worst, he
had been overturned at all, he had been overturned into the upper air,
the sublimer element with which he had an affinity and in which he
might be trusted a while to float. It wasn't a descent to earth to say
after an instant and in sustained response to the reference: "You're
quite sure her husband's living?"

"Oh dear, yes."

"Ah then--!"

"Ah then what?"

Strether had after all to think. "Well, I'm sorry for them." But it
didn't for the moment matter more than that. He assured his young
friend he was quite content. They wouldn't stir; were all right as
they were. He didn't want to be introduced; had been introduced
already about as far as he could go. He had seen moreover an
immensity; liked Gloriani, who, as Miss Barrace kept saying, was
wonderful; had made out, he was sure, the half-dozen other 'men who
were distinguished, the artists, the critics and oh the great
dramatist--HIM it was easy to spot; but wanted--no, thanks, really--to
talk with none of them; having nothing at all to say and finding it
would do beautifully as it was; do beautifully because what it
was--well, was just simply too late. And when after this little Bilham,
submissive and responsive, but with an eye to the consolation nearest,
easily threw off some "Better late than never!" all he got in return
for it was a sharp "Better early than late!" This note indeed the next
thing overflowed for Strether into a quiet stream of demonstration that
as soon as he had let himself go he felt as the real relief.