These all were things congruous with his confession, and his confession was that he HAD--it would come out properly just there if Waymarsh would only take it properly--agreed to breakfast out, at twelve literally, the next day.

He didn't quite know where; the delicacy of the case came straight up in the remembrance of his new friend's "We'll see; I'll take you somewhere!"-- for it had required little more than that, after all, to let him right in.

He was affected after a minute, face to face with his actual comrade, by the impulse to overcolour.

There had already been things in respect to which he knew himself tempted by this perversity.

If Waymarsh thought them bad he should at least have his reason for his discomfort; so Strether showed them as worse.