It was as to this he had made up his mind; he had made it up, that is, to give her a sign.

The sign would be that--though it was her own affair--he understood; the sign would be that--though it was her own affair--she was free to clutch.

Since she took him for a firm object--much as he might to his own sense appear at times to rock--he would do his best to BE one.
The end of it was that half an hour later they were seated together for an early luncheon at a wonderful, a delightful house of entertainment on the left bank--a place of pilgrimage for the knowing, they were both aware, the knowing who came, for its great renown, the homage of restless days, from the other end of the town.

Strether had already been there three times--first with Miss Gostrey, then with Chad, then with Chad again and with Waymarsh and little Bilham, all of whom he had himself sagaciously entertained; and his pleasure was deep now on learning that Madame de Vionnet hadn't yet been initiated.

When he had said as they strolled round the church, by the river, acting at last on what, within, he had made up his mind to, "Will you, if you have time, come to dejeuner with me somewhere?
For instance, if you know it, over there on the other side, which is so easy a walk"-- and then had named the place; when he had done this she stopped short as for quick intensity, and yet deep difficulty, of response.