herself the little least scrap away. But she added as one who was always bland and who could afford a concession, "I've come because—well, because we do come."
"Ah, fortunately!" Mme. de Vionnet breathed it to the air. Five minutes later they were on their feet for her to take leave, standing together in an affability that had succeeded in surviving a further exchange of remarks; only with the rather emphasised appearance on Waymarsh's part of a tendency to revert, in a ruminating manner, and as with an instinctive or a precautionary lightening of his tread, to an open window and his point of vantage. The glazed and gilded room—all red damask, ormolu, mirrors, clocks—looked south, and the shutters were bowed upon the summer morning; but the Tuileries garden and what was beyond it, over which the whole place hung, were things visible through gaps; so that the far-spreading presence of Paris came up in coolness, dimness and invitation, in the twinkle of gilt- tipped palings, the crunch of gravel, the click of hoofs, the crack of whips that suggested some parade of the circus. "I think it probable," said Mrs. Pocock, "that I shall have the opportunity of going to my brother's. I've no doubt it's very pleasant indeed." She spoke as to Strether, but her face was turned, with an intensity of brightness, to Mme. de Vionnet, and there was a moment during which, while she thus fronted her, our friend expected to hear her add, "I'm much obliged to you, I'm sure, for inviting me there." He guessed that for five seconds these words were on the point of coming; he heard them as clearly as if they had been spoken; but he presently knew they had just failed—knew it by a glance quick and fine from Mme. de Vionnet, which told him that she too had felt them in the air, but that the point had luckily not been made in any manner requiring notice. This left her free to reply only to what had been said.
"That the Boulevard Malesherbes may be common ground for us offers me the best prospect I see for the pleasure of meeting you again."
"Oh, I shall come to see you, since you've been so good"; and Mrs. Pocock looked her interlocutress well in the eyes. The flush in Sarah's cheeks had by this time
