"He thinks us sophisticated, he thinks us worldly, he thinks us wicked, he thinks us all sorts of queer things," Strether reflected; for wondrous were the vague quantities our friend had within a couple of short days acquired the habit of conveniently and conclusively lumping together.

There seemed moreover a direct connexion between some such inference and a sudden grim dash taken by Waymarsh to the opposite side.

This movement was startlingly sudden, and his companions at first supposed him to have espied, to be pursuing, the glimpse of an acquaintance.

They next made out, however, that an open door had instantly received him, and they then recognised him as engulfed in the establishment of a jeweller, behind whose glittering front he was lost to view.

The fact had somehow the note of a demonstration, and it left each of the others to show a face almost of fear.