 met he guessed also his
knowledge. If he had said to him on the instant what was uppermost he would have
said: »Have I passed? - for of course I know one has to pass here.« Little
Bilham would have reassured him, have told him that he exaggerated, and have
adduced happily enough the argument of little Bilham's own very presence; which,
in truth, he could see, was as easy a one as Gloriani's own or as Chad's. He
himself would perhaps then after a while cease to be frightened, would get the
point of view for some of the faces - types tremendously alien, alien to
Woollett - that he had already begun to take in. Who were they all, the
dispersed groups and couples, the ladies even more unlike those of Woollett than
the gentlemen? - this was the enquiry that, when his young friend had greeted
him, he did find himself making.
    »Oh they're every one - all sorts and sizes; of course I mean within limits,
though limits down perhaps rather more than limits up. There are always artists
- he's beautiful and inimitable to the cher confrère; and then gros bonnets of
many kinds - ambassadors, cabinet ministers, bankers, generals, what do I know?
even Jews. Above all always some awfully nice women - and not too many;
sometimes an actress, an artist, a great performer - but only when they're not
monsters; and in particular the right femmes du monde. You can fancy his history
on that side - I believe it's fabulous: they never give him up. Yet he keeps
them down: no one knows how he manages; it's too beautiful and bland. Never too
many - and a mighty good thing too; just a perfect choice. But there are not in
any way many bores; it has always been so; he has some secret. It's
extraordinary. And you don't find it out. He's the same to every one. He doesn't
ask questions.«
    »Ah doesn't he?« Strether laughed.
    Bilham met it with all his candour. »How then should I be here?«
    »Oh for what you tell me. You're part of the perfect choice.«
    Well, the young man took in the scene. »It seems rather good to-day.«
    Strether followed the direction of his eyes. »Are they all, this time,
femmes du monde?«
    Little Bilham showed his competence.
