gly familiar to him, and
nothing yet had so despoiled her of a special shade of consideration.
"You don't know," he asked, "whether Sarah has been directed from home
to try me on the matter of my also going to Switzerland?"

"I know," said Waymarsh as manfully as possible, "nothing whatever
about her private affairs; though I believe her to be acting in
conformity with things that have my highest respect." It was as manful
as possible, but it was still the false note--as it had to be to convey
so sorry a statement. He knew everything, Strether more and more felt,
that he thus disclaimed, and his little punishment was just in this
doom to a second fib. What falser position--given the man--could the
most vindictive mind impose? He ended by squeezing through a passage in
which three months before he would certainly have stuck fast. "Mrs
Pocock will probably be ready herself to answer any enquiry you may put
to her. But," he continued, "BUT--!" He faltered on it.

"But what? Don't put her too many?"

Waymarsh looked large, but the harm was done; he couldn't, do what he
would, help looking rosy. "Don't do anything you'll be sorry for."

It was an attenuation, Strether guessed, of something else that had
been on his lips; it was a sudden drop to directness, and was thereby
the voice of sincerity. He had fallen to the supplicating note, and
that immediately, for our friend, made a difference and reinstated him.
They were in communication as they had been, that first morning, in
Sarah's salon and in her presence and Madame de Vionnet's; and the same
recognition of a great good will was again, after all, possible. Only
the amount of response Waymarsh had then taken for granted was doubled,
decupled now. This came out when he presently said: "Of course I
needn't assure you I hope you'll come with us." Then it was that his
implications and expectations loomed up for Strether as almost
pathetically gross.

The latter patted his shoulder while he thanked him, giving the go-by
to the question of joining the Pococks; he expressed the joy he felt at
seeing him go forth again so brave and free, and he in fact almost took
leave of him on the spot. "I shall see you again of course before you
go; but I'm meanwhile much obliged to you for arranging so conveniently
for what you've told me. I shall walk up and down in the court
there--dear little old court which we've each bepaced so, this last
couple of months, to the tun