Vivid not less was his memory of what, during his long observation of her, some of her attainments of that high pitch had cost her.

Distinctly she was at the highest now, and Waymarsh, who imagined himself an independent performer, was really, forcing his fine old natural voice, an overstrained accompanist.

The whole reference of his errand seemed to mark her for Strether as by this time consentingly familiar to him, and nothing yet had so despoiled her of a special shade of consideration.
"You don't know," he asked, "whether Sarah has been directed from home to try me on the matter of my also going to Switzerland ?" "I know," said Waymarsh as manfully as possible, "nothing whatever about her private affairs; though I believe her to be acting in conformity with things that have my highest respect." It was as manful as possible, but it was still the false note--as it had to be to convey so sorry a statement.

He knew everything, Strether more and more felt, that he thus disclaimed, and his little punishment was just in this doom to a second fib.

What falser position--given the man--could the most vindictive mind impose?
He ended by squeezing through a passage in which three months before he would certainly have stuck fast.