I Those occasions on which Strether was, in association with the exile from Milrose, to see the sacred rage glimmer through would doubtless have their due periodicity; but our friend had meanwhile to find names for many other matters.

On no evening of his life perhaps, as he reflected, had he had to supply so many as on the third of his short stay in London; an evening spent by Miss Gostrey's side at one of the theatres, to which he had found himself transported, without his own hand raised, on the mere expression of a conscientious wonder.

She knew her theatre, she knew her play, as she had triumphantly known, three days running, everything else, and the moment filled to the brim, for her companion, that apprehension of the interesting which, whether or no the interesting happened to filter through his guide, strained now to its limits his brief opportunity.

Waymarsh hadn't come with them; he had seen plays enough, he signified, before Strether had joined him--an affirmation that had its full force when his friend ascertained by questions that he had seen two and a circus.

Questions as to what he had seen had on him indeed an effect only less favourable than questions as to what he hadn't.