“ Is that the daughter’s name—‘Pocock’?”
“ That’s the daughter’s name,” Strether sturdily confessed.
“ And people may differ, you mean, about her beauty?”
“ About everything.”
“ But you admire her?”
He gave his friend a glance as to show how he could bear this “I’m perhaps a little afraid of her.”
“ Oh,” said Miss Gostrey, “I see her from here! You may say then I see very fast and very far, but I’ve already shown you I do. The young man and the two ladies,” she went on, “are at any rate all the family?”
“ Quite all. His father has been dead ten years, and there’s no brother, nor any other sister. They’d do,” said Strether, “anything in the world for him.”
“ And you’d do anything in the world for them? ”
He shifted again; she had made it per
