“But Mr. Jim—whom has he got?”
“Oh he has got—or it’s as if he had—the whole place.”
“But for Mr. Waymarsh”—she recalled—“isn’t Miss Barrace before any one else?”
He shook his head. “Miss Barrace is a raffinée, and her amusement won’t lose by Mrs. Pocock. It will gain rather—especially if Sarah triumphs and she comes in for a view of it.”
“How well you know us!” Madame de Vionnet, at this, frankly sighed.
“No—it seems to me it’s we that I know. I know Sarah—it’s perhaps on that ground only that my feet are firm. Waymarsh will take her round while Chad takes Jim—and I shall be, I assure you, delighted for both of them. Sarah will have had what she requires—she will have paid her tribute to the ideal; and he will have done about the same. In Paris it’s in the air—so what can one do less? If there’s a point that, beyond any other, Sarah wants to make, it’s that she didn’t come out to be narrow. We shall feel at least that.”
“Oh,” she sighed, “the quantity we seem likely to ‘feel’! But what becomes, in these conditions, of the girl?”
“Of Mamie—if we’re all provided? Ah for that,” said Strether, “you can trust Chad.”
“To be, you mean, all right to her?”
“To pay her every attention as soon as he has polished off Jim. He wants what Jim can give him—and what Jim really won’t—though he has had it all, and more than all, from me. He wants in short his own personal impression, and he’ll get it—strong. But as soon as he has got it Mamie won’t suffer.”