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Updated: June 4, 2025
Strether had almost a groan. But Miss Barrace had meanwhile perceived relief. "Why not put your question straight to the person who can answer it best?" "No," said little Bilham; "don't put any question; wait, rather it will be much more fun to judge for yourself. He has come to take you to her."
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.
Oh little Bilham had for this enquiry the sharpest of all his controls. "How can he 'do' on any terms whatever when he's flagrantly spoiled?" Strether could only meet the question with his passive, his receptive pleasure. "Well, thank goodness, YOU'RE not!
Little Bilham, taking his course back to the music, only shook his good-natured ears an instant, in the manner of a terrier who has got wet; while Strether relapsed into the sense which had for him in these days most of comfort that he was free to believe in anything that from hour to hour kept him going.
I want to do something good for both of you I wish you each so well; and you can see in a moment the trouble it will save me to polish you off by the same stroke. She likes you, you know. You console her. And she's splendid." Little Bilham stared as a delicate appetite stares at an overheaped plate. "What do I console her for?" It just made his friend impatient. "Oh come, you knows"
Seated near him presently where little Bilham had sat, she replied in truth to many things; beginning as soon as he had said to her what he hoped he said without fatuity "All you ladies are extraordinarily kind to me." She played her long handle, which shifted her observation; she saw in an instant all the absences that left them free. "How can we be anything else?
They walked, wandered, wondered and, a little, lost themselves; Strether hadn't had for years so rich a consciousness of time a bag of gold into which he constantly dipped for a handful. It was present to him that when the little business with Mr. Bilham should be over he would still have shining hours to use absolutely as he liked.
He has within a day or two again said to me as much." "And that," Strether asked, "is why you consider that he cares less than she?" "Cares less for her than she for him? Yes, that's one of the reasons. But other things too have given me the impression. A man, don't you think?" little Bilham presently pursued, "CAN'T, in such conditions, care so much as a woman.
It was partly under the nervous consciousness of such a prospect that, leaving almost every one in the two other rooms, leaving those of the guests already known to him as well as a mass of brilliant strangers of both sexes and of several varieties of speech, he had desired five quiet minutes with little Bilham, whom he always found soothing and even a little inspiring, and to whom he had actually moreover something distinct and important to say.
Little Bilham tossed up his chin. "Of course she's difficile on any lines! What else in the world ARE our Mamies the real, the right ones?" "I see, I see," our friend repeated, charmed by the responsive wisdom he had ended by so richly extracting. "Mamie is one of the real and the right." "The very thing itself."
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