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Updated: June 19, 2025


He guessed that for five seconds these words were on the point of coming; he heard them as clearly as if they had been spoken; but he presently knew they had just failed knew it by a glance, quick and fine, from Madame de Vionnet, which told him that she too had felt them in the air, but that the point had luckily not been made in any manner requiring notice.

Pocock the more by it. "Well, Mr. Strether !" she murmured with vagueness, yet with sharpness, while her crimson spot burned a trifle brighter and he was aware that this must be for the present the limit of her response. Madame de Vionnet had already, however, come to his aid, and Waymarsh, as if for further participation, moved again back to them.

"I was just going to ask you how in that respect you regard Madame de Vionnet." She looked at him a little. "What woman was EVER safe? She told me," she added and it was as if at the touch of the connexion "of your extraordinary meeting in the country. After that a quoi se fier?" "It was, as an accident, in all the possible or impossible chapter," Strether conceded, "amazing enough.

You come really late with your request. I've already done all that for myself the case admits of. I've said my say, and here I am." "Yes, here you are, fortunately!" Madame de Vionnet laughed. "Mrs. Newsome," she added in another tone, "didn't think you can do so little." He had an hesitation, but he brought the words out. "Well, she thinks so now." "Do you mean by that ?" But she also hung fire.

As he trod that vionnet out of the stone he meditated upon his reading, his travels, the state of the Church and its reform, politics, the origin of evil. "His reflections often lifted him above men and their imperfect works; often, too, they were marked by that scepticism which knowledge of the human heart inspires.

One afternoon he did something quite different; finding himself in the neighbourhood of a fine old house across the river, he passed under the great arch of its doorway and asked at the porter's lodge for Madame de Vionnet. He had already hovered more than once about that possibility, been aware of it, in the course of ostensible strolls, as lurking but round the corner.

I went to see her," Strether explained "it was the day after I called on you but she was already on her way, and her concierge told me that in case of my coming I was to be informed she had written to me. I found her note when I got home." Madame de Vionnet listened with interest and with her eyes on Strether's face; then her delicately decorated head had a small melancholy motion.

"My idea voyons! is simply that you should let Madame de Vionnet know you, simply that you should consent to know HER. I don't in the least mind telling you that, clever and charming as she is, she's ever so much in my confidence. All I ask of you is to let her talk to you. You've asked me about what you call my hitch, and so far as it goes she'll explain it to you.

If I can't bring you I'm to leave you; I'm to come at any rate myself." "Ah but you CAN bring me now," Chad, from his sofa, reassuringly replied. Strether had a pause. "I don't think I understand you. Why was it that, more than a month ago, you put it to me so urgently to let Madame de Vionnet speak for you?" "'Why'?" Chad considered, but he had it at his fingers' ends.

She's really in a way extremely good-looking." "Ah but extremely!" Strether laughed while he wondered at the odd part he found thus imposed on him. It continued to be so by every touch from Madame de Vionnet. "Well, as I say, you know, I wish you would keep ME a little more to yourself. Couldn't you name some day for me, some hour and better soon than late?

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