The Ambassadors Henry James (novel24 txt) đ
- Author: Henry James
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It fully came up for them then, by means of their talking of everything but Chad, that Mamie, unlike Sarah, unlike Jim, knew perfectly what had become of him. It fully came up that she had taken to the last fraction of an inch the measure of the change in him, and that she wanted Strether to know what a secret she proposed to make of it. They talked most convenientlyâ âas if they had had no chance yetâ âabout Woollett; and that had virtually the effect of their keeping the secret more close. The hour took on for Strether, little by little, a queer sad sweetness of quality, he had such a revulsion in Mamieâs favour and on behalf of her social value as might have come from remorse at some early injustice. She made him, as under the breath of some vague western whiff, homesick and freshly restless; he could really for the time have fancied himself stranded with her on a far shore, during an ominous calm, in a quaint community of shipwreck. Their little interview was like a picnic on a coral strand; they passed each other, with melancholy smiles and looks sufficiently allusive, such cupfuls of water as they had saved. Especially sharp in Strether meanwhile was the conviction that his companion really knew, as we have hinted, where she had come out. It was at a very particular placeâ âonly that she would never tell him; it would be above all what he should have to puzzle for himself. This was what he hoped for, because his interest in the girl wouldnât be complete without it. No more would the appreciation to which she was entitledâ âso assured was he that the more he saw of her process the more he should see of her pride. She saw, herself, everything; but she knew what she didnât want, and that it was that had helped her. What didnât she want?â âthere was a pleasure lost for her old friend in not yet knowing, as there would doubtless be a thrill in getting a glimpse. Gently and sociably she kept that dark to him, and it was as if she soothed and beguiled him in other ways to make up for it. She came out with her impression of Madame de Vionnetâ âof whom she had âheard so muchâ; she came out with her impression of Jeanne, whom she had been âdying to seeâ: she brought it out with a blandness by which her auditor was really stirred that she had been with Sarah early that very afternoon, and after dreadful delays caused by all sorts of things, mainly, eternally, by the purchase of clothesâ âclothes that unfortunately wouldnât be themselves eternalâ âto call in the Rue de Bellechasse.
At the sound of these names Strether almost blushed to feel that he couldnât have sounded them firstâ âand yet couldnât either have justified his squeamishness. Mamie made them easy as he couldnât have begun to do, and yet it could only have cost her more than he should ever have had to spend. It was as friends of Chadâs, friends special, distinguished, desirable, enviable, that she spoke of them, and she beautifully carried it off that much as she had heard of themâ âthough she didnât say how or where, which was a touch of her ownâ âshe had found them beyond her supposition. She abounded in praise of them, and after the manner of Woollettâ âwhich made the manner of Woollett a loveable thing again to Strether. He had never so felt the true inwardness of it as when his blooming companion pronounced the elder of the ladies of the Rue de Bellechasse too fascinating for words and declared of the younger that she was perfectly ideal, a real little monster of charm. âNothing,â she said of Jeanne, âought ever to happen to herâ âsheâs so awfully right as she is. Another touch will spoil herâ âso she oughtnât to be touched.â
âAh but things, here in Paris,â Strether observed, âdo happen to little girls.â And then for the jokeâs and the occasionâs sake: âHavenât you found that yourself?â
âThat things happenâ â? Oh Iâm not a little girl. Iâm a big battered blowsy one. I donât care,â Mamie laughed, âwhat happens.â
Strether had a pause while he wondered if it mightnât happen that he should give her the pleasure of learning that he found her nicer than he had really dreamedâ âa pause that ended when he had said to himself that, so far as it at all mattered for her, she had in fact perhaps already made this out. He risked accordingly a different questionâ âthough conscious, as soon as he had spoken, that he seemed to place it in relation to her last speech. âBut that Mademoiselle de Vionnet is to be marriedâ âI suppose youâve heard of that.â
For all, he then found, he need fear! âDear, yes; the gentleman was there: Monsieur de Montbron, whom Madame de Vionnet presented to us.â
âAnd was he nice?â
Mamie bloomed and bridled with her best reception manner. âAny manâs nice when heâs in love.â
It made Strether laugh. âBut is Monsieur de Montbron in loveâ âalreadyâ âwith you?â
âOh thatâs not necessaryâ âitâs so much better he should be so with her: which, thank goodness, I lost no time in discovering for myself. Heâs perfectly goneâ âand I couldnât have borne it for her if he hadnât been. Sheâs just too sweet.â
Strether hesitated. âAnd through being in love too?â
On which with a smile that struck him as wonderful Mamie had a wonderful answer. âShe doesnât know if she is or not.â
It made him again laugh out. âOh but you do!â
She was willing to take it that way. âOh yes, I know everything.â And as she sat there rubbing her polished hands and making the best of itâ âonly holding her elbows perhaps a little too much outâ âthe momentary effect for Strether was
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