You're looking, this morning, as fit as a flea." Strether, at his glass, finished dressing; consulting that witness moreover on this last opinion.

WAS he looking preternaturally fit?
There was something in it perhaps for Chad's wonderful eye, but he had felt himself for hours rather in pieces.

Such a judgement, however, was after all but a contribution to his resolve; it testified unwittingly to his wisdom.

He was still firmer, apparently--since it shone in him as a light--than he had flattered himself.

His firmness indeed was slightly compromised, as he faced about to his friend, by the way this very personage looked--though the case would of course have been worse hadn't the secret of personal magnificence been at every hour Chad's unfailing possession.