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Updated: June 6, 2025
Waymarsh but all relentlessly took this in. "What do I care where you are if you're spoiled?" Their eyes met on it an instant. "Thank you awfully," Strether at last said. "But don't you think HER judgement of that ?" "Ought to content me? No." It kept them again face to face, and the end of this was that Strether again laughed. "You do her injustice. You really MUST know her. Good-night."
Waymarsh seemed to sit stiffer and to hold his elbows tighter. "Why not if I can't sleep?" "Because, my dear man, I CAN!" "Then where's your prostration?" "Just in that that I can put in eight hours."
It somehow ministered for him to indulgence to feel Waymarsh, who looked unnaturally big and black in bed, as much tucked in as a patient in a hospital and, with his covering up to his chin, as much simplified by it He hovered in vague pity, to be brief, while his companion challenged him out of the bedclothes. "Is she really after you? Is that what's behind?"
And Strether brought it out that if Waymarsh didn't "gain" it was because he didn't go to bed: the result of which was, in its order, that, to do the latter justice, he permitted his friend to insist on his really getting settled.
It somehow made both Strether and Madame de Vionnet laugh out, though at the very moment he caught in Sarah's eyes, as glancing at the speaker, a vague but unmistakeable "You too?" It made Waymarsh in fact look consciously over her head. Madame de Vionnet meanwhile, however, made her point in her own way.
Waymarsh himself, for the occasion, was drawn into the eddy; it absolutely, though but temporarily, swallowed him down, and there were days when Strether seemed to bump against him as a sinking swimmer might brush a submarine object.
You'll break down soon enough, but you'll meanwhile have had your moments. Il faut en avoir. I always like to see you while you last. And I'll tell you who WILL last." "Waymarsh?" he had already taken her up. She laughed out as at the alarm of it. "He'll resist even Miss Gostrey: so grand is it not to understand. He's wonderful." "He is indeed," Strether conceded.
I hope you'll have a lovely time in the Alps." Waymarsh fairly looked up at him as from the foot of them. "I don't know as I OUGHT really to go." It was the conscience of Milrose in the very voice of Milrose, but, oh it was feeble and flat! Strether suddenly felt quite ashamed for him; he breathed a greater boldness. "LET yourself, on the contrary, go in all agreeable directions.
Strether ended, as he sat, by a fresh scrutiny of his compressed missive, which he smoothed out carefully again as he placed it on his table. There it remained for some minutes, until, at last looking up, he saw Waymarsh watching him from within. It was on this that their eyes met met for a moment during which neither moved.
Waymarsh!" what was to have been, what he more than ever felt as his short stare of suspended welcome took things in would have been, but for herself, his doom. It was already upon him even at that distance Mr. Waymarsh was for HIS part joyless.
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