Strether meanwhile had had time to think more. “Then where’s his straightness?”
“Well, as we say, it’s struggling up, breaking out, asserting itself as it can. We can be on the side, you see, of his straightness. We can help him. But he has made out,” said Miss Gostrey, “that you’ll do.”
“Do for what?”
“Why, for them—for ces dames. He has watched you, studied you, liked you—and recognised that they must. It’s a great compliment to you, my dear man; for I’m sure they’re particular. You came out for a success. Well,” she gaily declared, “you’re having it!”
He took it from her with momentary patience and then turned abruptly away. It was always convenient to him that there were so many fine things in her room to look at. But the examination of two or three of them appeared soon to have determined a speech that had little to do with them. “You don’t believe in it!”
“In what?”
“In the character of the attachment. In its innocence.”
But she defended herself. “I don’t pretend to know anything about it. Everything’s possible. We must see.”
“See?” he echoed with a groan. “Haven’t we seen enough?”
“I haven’t,” she smiled.