It was with grim Sarah then--Sarah grim for all her grace--that Waymarsh had begun at ten o'clock in the morning to save him.

Well--if he COULD, poor dear man, with his big bleak kindness! The upshot of which crowded perception was that Strether, on his own side, still showed no more than he absolutely had to.

He showed the least possible by saying to Mrs.Pocock after an interval much briefer than our glance at the picture reflected in him: "Oh it's as true as they please!--There's no Miss Gostrey for any one but me--not the least little peep.

I keep her to myself." "Well, it's very good of you to notify me," Sarah replied without looking at him and thrown for a moment by this discrimination, as the direction of her eyes showed, upon a dimly desperate little community with Madame de Vionnet.

"But I hope I shan't miss her too much." Madame de Vionnet instantly rallied.