It somehow ministered for him to indulgence to feel Waymarsh, who looked unnaturally big and black in bed, as much tucked in as a patient in a hospital and, with his covering up to his chin, as much simplified by it He hovered in vague pity, to be brief, while his companion challenged him out of the bedclothes.

"Is she really after you?
Is that what's behind ?" Strether felt an uneasiness at the direction taken by his companion's insight, but he played a little at uncertainty.

"Behind my coming out ?" "Behind your prostration or whatever.

It's generally felt, you know, that she follows you up pretty close." Strether's candour was never very far off.

"Oh it has occurred to you that I'm literally running away from Mrs.Newsome ?" "Well, I haven't KNOWN but what you are.