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THE AMBASSADORS
hall, just come forward. All that Strether had made out was, while the man opened the door and impersonally waited, summed up in his last word. "I don't think, you know, Chad will tell me anything."
"No—perhaps not yet."
"And I won't as yet speak to him."
"Ah, that's as you'll think best. You must judge."
She had finally given him her hand, which he held a moment. "How much I have to judge!"
"Everything," said Mme. de Vionnet: a remark that was indeed—with the refined, disguised, suppressed passion of her face—what he most carried away.
