"How much, poor Mr.Strether, you seem to have to see about! But you can't say," she gaily declared, "that I don't do what I can to help you.

Mr.
Waymarsh is placed.

I've left him in the house with Miss Gostrey." "The way," little Bilham exclaimed, "Mr.Strether gets the ladies to work for him! He's just preparing to draw in another; to pounce--don't you see him ?--on Madame de Vionnet." "Madame de Vionnet?
Oh, oh, oh!" Miss Barrace cried in a wonderful crescendo.

There was more in it, our friend made out, than met the ear.

Was it after all a joke that he should be serious about anything?
He envied Miss Barrace at any rate her power of not being.