“Oh all the while, naturally.”
“Stay with us—stay with us!” she exclaimed on this. “That’s your only way to make sure.”
“To make sure of what?”
“Why that he doesn’t break up. You didn’t come out to do that to him.”
“Doesn’t it depend,” Strether returned after a moment, “on what you mean by breaking up?”
“Oh you know well enough what I mean!”
His silence seemed again for a little to denote an understanding. “You take for granted remarkable things.”
“Yes, I do—to the extent that I don’t take for granted vulgar ones. You’re perfectly capable of seeing that what you came out for wasn’t really at all to do what you’d now have to do.”
“Ah it’s perfectly simple,” Strether good-humouredly pleaded. “I’ve had but one thing to do—to put our case before him. To put it as it could only be put here on the spot—by personal pressure. My dear lady,” he lucidly pursued, “my work, you see, is really done, and my reasons for staying on even another day are none of the best. Chad’s in possession of our case and professes to do it full justice. What remains is with himself. I’ve had my rest, my amusement and refreshment; I’ve had, as we say at Woollett, a lovely time. Nothing in it has been more lovely than this happy meeting with you—in these fantastic conditions to which you’ve so delightfully consented. I’ve a sense of success. It’s what I wanted. My getting all this good is what Chad has waited for, and I gather that if I’m ready to go he’s the same.”
She shook her head with a finer deeper wisdom. “You’re not ready. If you’re ready why did you write to Mrs. Newsome in the sense you’ve mentioned to me?”