âMrs. Pocock, whom I left a quarter of an hour ago at her hotel, has asked me to mention to you that she would like to find you at home here in about another hour. She wants to see you; she has something to sayâ âor considers, I believe, that you may have: so that I asked her myself why she shouldnât come right round. She hasnât been round yetâ âto see our place; and I took upon myself to say that I was sure youâd be glad to have her. The thingâs therefore, you see, to keep right here till she comes.â
The announcement was sociably, even though, after Waymarshâs wont, somewhat solemnly made; but Strether quickly felt other things in it than these light features. It was the first approach, from that quarter, to admitted consciousness; it quickened his pulse; it simply meant at last that he should have but himself to thank if he didnât know where he was. He had finished his breakfast; he pushed it away and was on his feet. There were plenty of elements of surprise, but only one of doubt. âThe thingâs for you to keep here too?â Waymarsh had been slightly ambiguous.
He wasnât ambiguous, however, after this enquiry; and Stretherâs understanding had probably never before opened so wide and effective a mouth as it was to open during the next five minutes. It was no part of his friendâs wish, as appeared, to help to receive Mrs. Pocock; he quite understood the spirit in which she was to present herself, but his connection with her visit was limited to his havingâ âwell, as he might sayâ âperhaps a little promoted it. He had thought, and had let her know it, that Strether possibly would think she might have been round before. At any rate, as turned out, she had been wanting herself, quite a while, to come. âI told her,â said Waymarsh, âthat it would have been a bright idea if she had only carried it out before.â
Strether pronounced it so bright as to be almost dazzling. âBut why hasnât she carried it out before? She has seen me every dayâ âshe had only to name her hour. Iâve been waiting and waiting.â
âWell, I told her you had. And she has been waiting too.â It was, in the oddest way in the world, on the showing of this tone, a genial new pressing coaxing Waymarsh; a Waymarsh conscious with a different consciousness from any he had yet betrayed, and actually rendered by it almost insinuating. He lacked only time for full persuasion, and Strether was to see in a moment why. Meantime, however, our friend perceived, he was announcing a step of some magnanimity on Mrs. Pocockâs part, so that he could deprecate a sharp question. It was his own high purpose in fact to have smoothed sharp questions to rest. He looked his old comrade
Comments (0)