At this very moment perhaps what mayn't he be up to?
I've had my disappointments--the poor things are never really safe; or only at least when you have them under your eye.
One can never completely trust them.

One's uneasy, and I think that's why I most miss him now." She had wound up with a laugh of enjoyment over her embroidery of her idea--an enjoyment that her face communicated to Strether, who almost wished none the less at this moment that she would let poor Waymarsh alone.

HE knew more or less what she meant; but the fact wasn't a reason for her not pretending to Waymarsh that he didn't.

It was craven of him perhaps, but he would, for the high amenity of the occasion, have liked Waymarsh not to be so sure of his wit.

Her recognition of it gave him away and, before she had done with him or with that article, would give him worse.