g you again."

"Oh I shall come to see you, since you've been so good": and Mrs.
Pocock looked her invader well in the eyes. The flush in Sarah's
cheeks had by this time settled to a small definite crimson spot that
was not without its own bravery; she held her head a good deal up, and
it came to Strether that of the two, at this moment, she was the one
who most carried out the idea of a Countess. He quite took in,
however, that she would really return her visitor's civility: she
wouldn't report again at Woollett without at least so much producible
history as that in her pocket.

"I want extremely to be able to show you my little daughter." Madame de
Vionnet went on; "and I should have brought her with me if I hadn't
wished first to ask your leave. I was in hopes I should perhaps find
Miss Pocock, of whose being with you I've heard from Mr. Newsome and
whose acquaintance I should so much like my child to make. If I have
the pleasure of seeing her and you do permit it I shall venture to ask
her to be kind to Jeanne. Mr. Strether will tell you"--she beautifully
kept it up--"that my poor girl is gentle and good and rather lonely.
They've made friends, he and she, ever so happily, and he doesn't, I
believe, think ill of her. As for Jeanne herself he has had the same
success with her that I know he has had here wherever he has turned."
She seemed to ask him for permission to say these things, or seemed
rather to take it, softly and happily, with the ease of intimacy, for
granted, and he had quite the consciousness now that not to meet her at
any point more than halfway would be odiously, basely to abandon her.
Yes, he was WITH her, and, opposed even in this covert, this semi-safe
fashion to those who were not, he felt, strangely and confusedly, but
excitedly, inspiringly, how much and how far. It was as if he had
positively waited in suspense for something from her that would let him
in deeper, so that he might show her how he could take it. And what
did in fact come as she drew out a little her farewell served
sufficiently the purpose. "As his success is a matter that I'm sure
he'll never mention for himself, I feel, you see, the less scruple;
which it's very good of me to say, you know, by the way," she added as
she addressed herself to him; "considering how little direct advantage
I've gained from your triumphs with ME. When does one ever see you? I
wait at home and I languish. You'll have rendered me the s