 out.«
    »Well, I do look out. I am, after all, looking out. That's just why,« our
friend explained, »I want to see her again.«
    It drew from Chad again the same question. »To see Mother?«
    »To see - for the present - Sarah.«
    »Ah then there you are! And what I don't for the life of me make out,« Chad
pursued with resigned perplexity, »is what you gain by it.«
    Oh it would have taken his companion too long to say! »That's because you
have, I verily believe, no imagination. You've other qualities. But no
imagination, don't you see? at all.«
    »I dare say. I do see.« It was an idea in which Chad showed interest. »But
haven't you yourself rather too much?«
    »Oh rather -!« So that after an instant, under this reproach and as if it
were at last a fact really to escape from, Strether made his move for departure.

                                       II

 
One of the features of the restless afternoon passed by him after Mrs. Pocock's
visit was an hour spent, shortly before dinner, with Maria Gostrey, whom of
late, in spite of so sustained a call on his attention from other quarters, he
had by no means neglected. And that he was still not neglecting her will appear
from the fact that he was with her again at the same hour on the very morrow-
with no less fine a consciousness moreover of being able to hold her ear. It
continued inveterately to occur, for that matter, that whenever he had taken one
of his greater turns he came back to where she so faithfully awaited him. None
of these excursions had on the whole been livelier than the pair of incidents -
the fruit of the short interval since his previous visit - on which he had now
to report to her. He had seen Chad Newsome late the night before, and he had had
that morning, as a sequel to this conversation, a second interview with Sarah.
»But they're all off,« he said, »at last.«
    It puzzled her a moment. »All? - Mr. Newsome with them?«
    »Ah not yet! Sarah and Jim and Mamie. But Waymarsh with them - for Sarah.
It's too beautiful,« Strether continued; »I find I don't get over that - it's
always a fresh joy. But it
