but he met it well
enough. "To marry Chad."

"Why should she marry Chad?"

"Because I'm convinced she's very fond of him. She has done wonders
for him."

"Well then, how could she do more? Marrying a man, or woman either,"
Miss Barrace sagely went on, "is never the wonder for any Jack and Jill
can bring THAT off. The wonder is their doing such things without
marrying."

Strether considered a moment this proposition. "You mean it's so
beautiful for our friends simply to go on so?"

But whatever he said made her laugh. "Beautiful."

He nevertheless insisted. "And THAT because it's disinterested?"

She was now, however, suddenly tired of the question. "Yes then--call
it that. Besides, she'll never divorce. Don't, moreover," she added,
"believe everything you hear about her husband."

"He's not then," Strether asked, "a wretch?"

"Oh yes. But charming."

"Do you know him?"

"I've met him. He's bien aimable."

"To every one but his wife?"

"Oh for all I know, to her too--to any, to every woman. I hope you at
any rate," she pursued with a quick change, "appreciate the care I take
of Mr. Waymarsh."

"Oh immensely." But Strether was not yet in line. "At all events," he
roundly brought out, "the attachment's an innocent one."

"Mine and his? Ah," she laughed, "don't rob it of ALL interest!"

"I mean our friend's here--to the lady we've been speaking of." That
was what he had settled to as an indirect but none the less closely
involved consequence of his impression of Jeanne. That was where he
meant to stay. "It's innocent," he repeated--"I see the whole thing."

Mystified by his abrupt declaration, she had glanced over at Gloriani
as at the unnamed subject of his allusion, but the next moment she had
understood; though indeed not before Strether had noticed her momentary
mistake and wondered what might possibly be behind that too. He
already knew that the sculptor admired Madame de Vionnet; but did this
admiration also represent an attachment of which the innocence was
discussable? He was moving verily in a strange air and on ground not
of the firmest. He looked hard for an instant at Miss Barrace, but she
had already gone on. "All right with Mr. Newsome? Why of course she
is!"--and she got gaily back to the question of her own good friend. "I
dare say you're surprised that I'm not worn out with all I see--it
being so much!--of Sitting Bull. But I'm not, you know--I don't mind
him; I