Newsome. He hadn't, it was true, week after week,
shown signs of receiving it, but the possibility had been none the
less in the air. What Maria accordingly had had now to take in was
that the shock had descended and that he hadn't, all the same,
swung back. He had grown clear, in a flash, on a point long since
settled for herself; but no reapproximation to Mrs. Newsome had
occurred in consequence. Madame de Vionnet had by her visit held
up the torch to these truths, and what now lingered in poor Maria's
face was the somewhat smoky light of the scene between them.
If the light however wasn't, as we have hinted, the glow of joy,
the reasons for this also were perhaps discernible to Strether even
through the blur cast over them by his natural modesty. She had
held herself for months with a firm hand; she hadn't interfered on
any chance--and chances were specious enough--that she might
interfere to her profit. She had turned her back on the dream that
Mrs. Newsome's rupture, their friend's forfeiture--the engagement
the relation itself, broken beyond all mending--might furnish forth
her advantage; and, to stay her hand from promoting these things,
she had on private, difficult, but rigid, lines, played strictly
fair.
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