last out
of the place--got out before he answered. He lighted, in the street, a
cigarette, which again gave him more time. But it was already sharp
for him that there was no use in time. "What does she propose to do to
me?" he had presently demanded.
Chad had no delays. "Are you afraid of her?"
"Oh immensely. Don't you see it?"
"Well," said Chad, "she won't do anything worse to you than make you
like her."
"It's just of that I'm afraid."
"Then it's not fair to me."
Strether cast about. "It's fair to your mother."
"Oh," said Chad, "are you afraid of HER?"
"Scarcely less. Or perhaps even more. But is this lady against your
interests at home?" Strether went on.
"Not directly, no doubt; but she's greatly in favour of them here."
"And what--'here'--does she consider them to be?"
"Well, good relations!"
"With herself?"
"With herself."
"And what is it that makes them so good?"
"What? Well, that's exactly what you'll make out if you'll only go, as
I'm supplicating you, to see her."
Strether stared at him with a little of the wanness, no doubt, that the
vision of more to "make out" could scarce help producing. "I mean HOW
good are they?"
"Oh awfully good."
Again Strether had faltered, but it was brief. It was all very well,
but there was nothing now he wouldn't risk. "Excuse me, but I must
really--as I began by telling you--know where I am. Is she bad?"
"'Bad'?"--Chad echoed it, but without a shock. "Is that what's
implied--?"
"When relations are good?" Strether felt a little silly, and was even
conscious of a foolish laugh, at having it imposed on him to have
appeared to speak so. What indeed was he talking about? His stare had
relaxed; he looked now all round him. But something in him brought him
back, though he still didn't know quite how to turn it. The two or
three ways he thought of, and one of them in particular, were, even
with scruples dismissed, too ugly. He none the less at last found
something. "Is her life without reproach?"
It struck him, directly he had found it, as pompous and priggish; so
much so that he was thankful to Chad for taking it only in the right
spirit. The young man spoke so immensely to the point that the effect
was practically of positive blandness. "Absolutely without reproach. A
beautiful life. Allez donc voir!"
These last words were, in the liberality of their confidence, so
imperative that Strether went through no form
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