if - since
she's free - there's nothing to impose on it any condition?«
    He laughed at her question. »Oh I perhaps don't mean as virtuous as that!
Your idea is that it can be virtuous - in any sense worthy of the name - only if
she's not free? But what does it become then,« he asked, »for her?«
    »Ah that's another matter.« He said nothing for a moment, and she soon went
on. »I dare say you're right, at any rate, about Mr. Newsome's little plan. He
has been trying you - has been reporting on you to these friends.«
    Strether meanwhile had had time to think more. »Then where's his
straightness?«
    »Well, as we say, it's struggling up, breaking out, asserting itself as it
can. We can be on the side, you see, of his straightness. We can help him. But
he has made out,« said Miss Gostrey, »that you'll do.«
    »Do for what?«
    »Why, for them - for ces dames. He has watched you, studied you, liked you -
and recognised that they must. It's a great compliment to you, my dear man; for
I'm sure they're particular. You came out for a success. Well,« she gaily
declared, »you're having it!«
    He took it from her with momentary patience and then turned abruptly away.
It was always convenient to him that there were so many fine things in her room
to look at. But the examination of two or three of them appeared soon to have
determined a speech that had little to do with them. »You don't believe in it!«
    »In what?«
    »In the character of the attachment. In its innocence.«
    But she defended herself. »I don't pretend to know anything about it.
Everything's possible. We must see.«
    »See?« he echoed with a groan. »Haven't we seen enough?«
    »I haven't,« she smiled.
    »But do you suppose then little Bilham has lied?«
    »You must find out.«
    It made him almost turn pale. »Find out any more?«
    He had dropped on a sofa for dismay; but she seemed, as she stood over him,
to have the last word. »Wasn't