It came up for him with Miss Gostrey that there were things of which she would really perhaps, after all, have heard; and she admitted when a little pressed that she was never quite sure of what she heard as distinguished from things such as, on occasions like the present, she only extravagantly guessed. "I seem, with this freedom, you see, to have guessed Mr. Chad. He's a young man, on whose head at Woollett high hopes are placed, whom a wicked woman has got hold of, and whom his family over there have sent you out to rescue. You've accepted the mission of separating him from the wicked woman. Are you quite sure she's very bad for him?"
Something in his manner showed it as quite pulling him up. "Of course we are. Wouldn't you be?"
"Oh, I don't know. One never does—does one?—beforehand. One can only judge on the facts. Yours are quite new to me; I'm really not in the least, as you see, in possession of them; so it will be awfully interesting to have them from you. If you're satisfied, that's all that's required. I mean if you're sure that you are sure: sure that it won't do."
"That he should lead such a life? Rather!"
"Oh, but I don't know, you see, about his life; you've not told me about his life. She may be charming—his life!"
"Charming?"—Strether stared before him. "She's base, venal—out of the streets."
"I see. And he?"
"Chad, wretched boy?"
"Of what type and temper is he?" she went on, as Strether had hesitated.
"Well—the obstinate." It was as if for a moment he had been going to say more and had then controlled himself.
That was scarce what she wished. "Do you like him?"
This time he was prompt. "No. How can I?"
"Do you mean because of your being so saddled with him?"
"I'm thinking of his mother," said Strether after a moment. "He has darkened her admirable life." He spoke with austerity. "He has worried her half to death."
"Oh, that's of course odious." She had a pause as if for
