“Left me?”—Strether remained blank.
“Only for a month or two—time to go and come. Madame de Vionnet,” Chad smiled, “would look after you in the interval.”
“To go back by yourself, I remaining here?” Again for an instant their eyes had the question out; after which Strether said: “Grotesque!”
“But I want to see Mother,” Chad presently returned. “Remember how long it is since I’ve seen Mother.”
“Long indeed; and that’s exactly why I was originally so keen for moving you. Hadn’t you shown us enough how beautifully you could do without it?”
“Oh but,” said Chad wonderfully, “I’m better now.”
There was an easy triumph in it that made his friend laugh out again. “Oh if you were worse I should know what to do with you. In that case I believe I’d have you gagged and strapped down, carried on board resisting, kicking. How much,” Strether asked, “do you want to see Mother?”
“How much?”—Chad seemed to find it in fact difficult to say.
“How much.”
“Why as much as you’ve made me. I’d give anything to see her. And you’ve left me,” Chad went on, “in little enough doubt as to how much she wants it.”