"You give too much," little Bilham permitted himself benevolently to observe.
"Oh I always give too much!" Strether helplessly sighed.

"But you don't," he went on as if to get quickly away from the contemplation of that doom, "answer my question.

Why isn't he free ?" Little Bilham had got up as if the transaction with the waiter had been a signal, and had already edged out between the table and the divan.
The effect of this was that a minute later they had quitted the place, the gratified waiter alert again at the open door.

Strether had found himself deferring to his companion's abruptness as to a hint that he should be answered as soon as they were more isolated.

This happened when after a few steps in the outer air they had turned the next comer.
There our friend had kept it up.