The upshot was indeed to make our friend marvel. “Oh if that’s all that’s the matter with you—!” It was he who almost showed resentment.
Chad’s smile of a truth more than met it. “But isn’t that enough?”
Strether hesitated, but it came out. “Not enough for your mother!” Spoken, however, it sounded a trifle odd—the effect of which was that Chad broke into a laugh. Strether, at this, succumbed as well, though with extreme brevity. “Permit us to have still our theory. But if you are so free and so strong you’re inexcusable. I’ll write in the morning,” he added with decision. “I’ll say I’ve got you.”
This appeared to open for Chad a new interest. “How often do you write?”
“Oh perpetually.”
“And at great length?”
Strether had become a little impatient. “I hope it’s not found too great.”
“Oh I’m sure not. And you hear as often?”
Again Strether paused. “As often as I deserve.”
“Mother writes,” said Chad, “a lovely letter.”