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Updated: June 14, 2025
He had been to the theatre, even to the opera, in Boston, with Mrs. Newsome, more than once acting as her only escort; but there had been no little confronted dinner, no pink lights, no whiff of vague sweetness, as a preliminary: one of the results of which was that at present, mildly rueful, though with a sharpish accent, he actually asked himself WHY there hadn't.
"It was open to them simply to let me alone; to have made up their minds, on really seeing me for themselves, that I could go on well enough as I was." Strether assented to this proposition with full lucidity, his companion's plural pronoun, which stood all for Mrs. Newsome and her daughter, having no ambiguity for him.
Strether felt an uneasiness at the direction taken by his companion's insight, but he played a little at uncertainty. "Behind my coming out?" "Behind your prostration or whatever. It's generally felt, you know, that she follows you up pretty close." Strether's candour was never very far off. "Oh it has occurred to you that I'm literally running away from Mrs. Newsome?"
You were talking of what will do something for you " "So that it strikes you," she broke in, "that my poor place may? Oh," she ruefully mused, "that WOULD be desperate!" "Do you know what I wish?" he went on. "I wish Mrs. Newsome herself could have a look." She stared, missing a little his logic. "It would make a difference?" Her tone was so earnest that as he continued to look about he laughed.
It had been sad, of a sudden, with a sadness that was like a cold breath in his face. "What can I do," he finally asked, "but listen to you as I promised Chadwick?" "Ah but what I'm asking you," she quickly said, "isn't what Mr. Newsome had in mind." She spoke at present, he saw, as if to take courageously ALL her risk. "This is my own idea and a different thing."
However, that's comparatively simple. You can easily, at the worst, after all, give me up." "I can easily at the worst, after all, give you up." The irony was so obvious that it needed no care. "I can easily at the worst, after all, even forget you." "Call that then workable. But Mr. Newsome has much more to forget. How can HE do it?" "Ah there again we are!
Newsome who knew extraordinarily well what he was about laid them down ten years ago." Oh well, Waymarsh seemed to indicate with a shake of his mane, THAT didn't matter! "You're fierce for the boom anyway." His friend weighed a moment in silence the justice of the charge.
"Shall you make anything so good ?" But, as if remembering what Mrs. Newsome had done, it was as far as she went. He had sufficiently understood. "So good as this place at this moment? So good as what YOU make of everything you touch?"
Let us hasten to add, however, that what he at first made out on this occasion he also at first kept to himself. He only asked what in particular Madame de Vionnet had come for, and as to this his companion was ready. "She wants tidings of Mr. Newsome, whom she appears not to have seen for some days." "Then she hasn't been away with him again?"
He had begged the young man would present his excuses and had trusted him to understand that it couldn't really strike one as quite the straight thing. He hadn't reported to Mrs. Newsome that he had promised to "save" Madame de Vionnet; but, so far as he was concerned with that reminiscence, he hadn't at any rate promised to haunt her house.
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