Strether looked amused at her notion of the simple, but he adopted her formula. “Everything’s too much for her.”
“Ah then such a service as this of yours—”
“Is more for her than anything else? Yes—far more. But so long as it isn’t too much for me—!”
“Her condition doesn’t matter? Surely not; we leave her condition out; we take it, that is, for granted. I see it, her condition, as behind and beneath you; yet at the same time I see it as bearing you up.”
“Oh it does bear me up!” Strether laughed.
“Well then as yours bears me nothing more’s needed.” With which she put again her question. “Has Mrs. Newsome money?”
This time he heeded. “Oh plenty. That’s the root of the evil. There’s money, to very large amounts, in the concern. Chad has had the free use of a great deal. But if he’ll pull himself together and come home, all the same, he’ll find his account in it.”
She had listened with all her interest. “And I hope to goodness you’ll find yours!”
“He’ll take up his definite material reward,” said Strether without acknowledgement of this. “He’s at the parting of the ways. He can come into the business now—he can’t come later.”
“Is there a business?”