She might have been "receiving" for Woollett, wherever she found herself, and there was something in her manner, her tone, her motion, her pretty blue eyes, her pretty perfect teeth and her very small, too small, nose, that immediately placed her, to the fancy, between the windows of a hot bright room in which voices were high--up at that end to which people were brought to be "presented." They were there to congratulate, these images, and Strether's renewed vision, on this hint, completed the idea.

What Mamie was like was the happy bride, the bride after the church and just before going away.

She wasn't the mere maiden, and yet was only as much married as that quantity came to.

She was in the brilliant acclaimed festal stage.
Well, might it last her long! Strether rejoiced in these things for Chad, who was all genial attention to the needs of his friends, besides having arranged that his servant should reinforce him; the ladies were certainly pleasant to see, and Mamie would be at any time and anywhere pleasant to exhibit.
She would look extraordinarily like his young wife--the wife of a honeymoon, should he go about with her; but that was his own affair--or perhaps it was hers; it was at any rate something she couldn't help.
Strether remembered how he had seen him come up with Jeanne de Vionnet in Gloriani's garden, and the fancy he had had about that--the fancy obscured now, thickly overlaid with others; the recollection was during these minutes his only note of trouble.

He had often, in spite of himself, wondered if Chad but too probably were not with Jeanne the object of a still and shaded flame.